To The Bone: Hunger, Privilege and Power

To The Bone
Released 14/07/2017
Written and Directed by Marti Noxon
Starring Lily Collins and Keanu Reeves

Netflix’s latest deep dive into controversial young-adult content is To The Bone, a film that rubbed people up the wrong way weeks before it was even released. To The Bone follows Ellen, a twenty-year-old, middle class, cis-gendered, straight, Caucasian woman (aka. your stock photo placeholder for “person with an eating disorder”) who after four unsuccessful attempts at going inpatient to treat her anorexia, is accepted into an unconventional treatment program run by Doctor William Beckham.

This film kicked up a fair bit of controversy prior to it’s release, and with good reason. Concerns were mostly directed at the potential for the film to be a trigger for those suffering from an eating disorder, or those at risk of developing one. If this film turned out to be too realistic, would it be interpreted as a ‘how to’ guide? If it wasn’t realistic enough, would it serve to cast even more stigma and isolation and misunderstanding over an aspect of mental health that is already often wildly misunderstood?

But anyway, lets start on the positives. The film is beautifully shot. The performances range from strong to pretty okay. Lily Collins as Ellen has a great screen presence and is fascinating to watch in what I imagine would have been a very difficult role to portray.

And now, the not-so-positives.

The film is definitely problematic, although it’s problematic in ways that I didn’t expect. The film’s main selling point was that it was a realistic portrayal of what it’s like to live with an eating disorder. Now, I can’t say whether or not this true, having been lucky enough to not be afflicted with an eating disorder myself.  However, I feel like it’s a fair call to say that for sufferers of eating disorders in the real world, it’s not a case of getting into a program overnight. It’s not a case of said treatment happening in an enormously glamorous house that is comparable to a family home, or upmarket college house. It’s not a case that one can run away and return the prodigal child whose learned their lesson. (A much better review from someone who has suffered and survived an eating disorder that touches upon a similar point can be read here).

If it is, then this is the domain of the privileged, the few that can afford to have a mental illness. This is not the case for everybody. I would argue it’s not the case for the majority.  If realism was the goal, then this is realism for the few, not the many, and falls into a Hollywood trap that pleads reality from a decorated stage. The problem with this is that it misrepresents the reality that, in the real world, treatment for mental health is drastically underfunded, expensive, and difficult to access. And, to cap off this little rant, it plays into the harmful idea that a positive outlook or catalytic moment is all one needs to overcome their troubles. This simply isn’t true, it isn’t helpful, and again, it’s taking the film further away from the reality that mental illness is complicated and there are no simple ‘one-size-fits-all’ answers.

My second bone to pick (too soon?) was with the men in this film. There are three main men here in a film that, like the disorder it’s concerned with, is mostly (though not exclusively) dominated by women. This is even hilariously joked about during a session of therapy when the family patriarch is once again absent. Ellen’s father appears in the film by name only, and yet his presence dominates the family dynamic between her stepmother and sister, and Ellen’s lesbian mother. The absence of the character we never meet is palpable. It cuts deep for these characters, in a way that is emphasised and troubling.

The second male of note is the straight talking Doctor Beckham himself, another paternalistic figure whose notoriety speaks more than his presence does. “He’s the best!” they say. “He’s barely in the film!” I respond. And yet, when he is there, the doctor dominates over the oh-so-skinny women in his care as the fatherly yet weirdly sexualised figure that condescends to tuck a twenty-year-old woman into bed and call her ‘kiddo’. But I digress.

The third man in the mix is the one to show that, hey, we know men can have eating disorders too! The pay off is buying into another cliché- old mate is a dancer. Go figure. Luke is a curious gender flipped spin on the manic-pixie-dream girl trope. Relentlessly optimistic, quirky, and British, this character annoys me in a number of ways. Like the good doctor himself, he dominates the mostly female household with a strangely paternalistic air that made me squirm. He’s everywhere at all times, offering wisdom, chocolate, hugs, persisting even when given a clear and firm ‘no’. He’s a nice guy. He takes on a strange infatuation with Ellen, naturally, which in this viewer’s opinion, rapidly turns creepy.

What the men in this film have in common is the way the manage to dominate the directions of these characters and their lives. They somehow fill every space, either through their absence or relentless stream of chatter. The otherwise all female cast are overshadowed by the power that for some reason is constantly handed, in buckets, to men. What’s perhaps most troubling is that, in a film about bodies, control of these bodies is handed to men, time and time again, be it Doctor Beckham’s distant intentions to mould these women into the shapes that he wants, or young Luke’s physical advances being justified by the creepy as fuck line of “you need to be touched by someone who cares about you.”

Even Ellen’s absent father relates to the woman in this film almost exclusively in terms of body as collateral. Step-mother and divorced wife fight about him with sex as the trump card- he didn’t touch you. He wants to touch me. His physical absence takes on new significance in this light, as though the crumbling worlds of these women and starving of the flesh is directly related to the lack of a male presence.

And most interestingly, I would argue the audience is placed squarely in the perspective of the male gaze, as far from being invited to empathise with these women, instead their bodies are used as an object of curiosity, devoured by the camera that lingers on hollow stomachs and protruding ribs with less a manner of compassion than that of cold voyeurism. It’s perverse. It’s unsettling. And yet, one cannot look away.

There are a number of other criticisms I could lay on this film (like the ending. My good lord. The fucking ending.) but I won’t.  Someone else can do that.

This film was one with great potential that, despite everything, I did enjoy, but that missed the mark in ways that felt too significant to be ignored. There is some good to be gleaned here- the overall message is a positive one and the film does handle difficult subject matter with self-awareness and a degree of tact. But in terms of it’s accessibility as a ‘realistic’ film, and the small rant I just had about the men in this film, there are potholes, definitely. And it’s unfortunate because these exact hole are the kinds of tripping points a film like this just can’t afford to have.

‘Hot Girls Wanted’- Rambling About Porn

Hot Girls Wanted
Released 24/01/2015
Directed by Jill Bauer & Ronna Gradus
Written by  Brittany Huckabee

Hot Girls Wanted follows a handful of young women- between eighteen and twenty-four-  working in the amateur porn industry. The film lacks specific focus. It fluctuates between describing the enormity of this little-talked-about industry of online porn streaming sites, and emphasising both the youth of the women involved and the somewhat iffy shoots they become involved with (‘abuse’, ‘forced blow job’, ‘exploitation’, ‘taking advantage of teens’ etc.). However, focus wavers during interviews with the subjects, as the male porn stars (whose unexpected and often enlightening perspective was drastically under-utilised) openly admit that a lot of what they’re asked to do is kind of creepy, as the women offer up their perspectives on empowerment, fetish and self-awareness, and ‘agents’ describe both the high turn-around in the industry alongside the fact that this is definitely not a role everyone is cut out for.

Two aspects of the film stood out to me though, as unexpected points of interest. Firstly, the aforementioned lack of male perspectives. I didn’t like the lack of male representation, because I think it’s perpetuating a couple of negative stereotypes; men being sex obsessed drones, and that men in the sex industry don’t respect women. The few glimpses we had of men in porn showed, on the most part, an awareness and respect for women in the sex industry- a perspective that I think desperately needs to be vocalised more in discussions about sex, sex work, and sexuality in general. I also thought it was strange that although it’s mentioned most heterosexual pornography centres around males and male pleasure, in this discussion about people starting out careers in porn there was no mention of how men end up getting involved in sex work. Again, we’re falling back on stereotypes. Women getting sucked into sex work out of desperation for money, for liberation, for whatever. Poor little girls getting used and abused and cast out. But do the men just appear by magic? Are they kept in a cupboard and brought out for the camera? What is the deal? I, for one, am interested, and although the focus of this documentary was young women in the porn industry, I think they missed an interesting and untold perspective by excluding male voices. That’s right world, feminism works all ways! Lets have all the discourse!

Moving right along.

The other fascinating thing this film highlighted is more of a positive for the documentary, although it was a ‘blink and you miss it’ moment. The women discuss Miriam Weeks a.k.a Belle Knox, a Duke University student who went public with her story about going into porn to pay her tuition. The girls main grumble with this is that she’s ‘just doing what a thousand girls are doing!’. The Belle Knox story ties into an interesting theme that I think should be talked about more explicitly in the documentary; women taking ownership of their sexuality and this not being something shameful. The media representing pride in one’s sexuality as ‘exceptional’ is both incorrect and perpetuating yet another yucky stereotype that female sexuality is something that is in itself, the exception rather than the rule. Which is of course, a crock of bullshit. I guess of there was an ‘ah ha!’ moment of the film, it was the realisation that, yes, despite the prevalence of sex in every single facet of western culture, despite the contradictory messages being put out there that women should be simultaneously sexual, and ashamed of this sexuality, despite the endless fascination and discussion and representations of sex throughout history, despite all of this:

Personal expression of female sexuality is still seen as deviation from the ‘norm’.

Which is kind of the key reason those stereotypes about how women end up in porn for reasons of desperation are kind of damaging. It’s excluding female sexuality from the equation. And no, I’m not saying every porn star is one way or the other. That’s the exact point really. Trying to generalise and make assumptions is, as it always was, as it will always continue to be, a very wrong and very narrow way of examining any issue.

Anyway.

Hot Girls Wanted was an interesting albeit narrow glimpse into an industry often talked about from a strictly external perspective. I think discussions about sex and sex work more generally are becoming more common, although have a long way to go. While a documentary like this one barely skims the surface of a vast ocean of perspectives and issues, I think it’s lack of a clear focus could actually be kind of a good thing, in starting to question on a mainstream platform the ways we talk about sex work and the people involved.

The Peanuts Movie: Appropriation and Sacrificing Gloom

Snoopy and Charlie Brown: The Peanuts Movie
Released 01/11/15
Directed by Steve Martino
Written by  Bryan Schulz, Craig Schulz & Cornelius Uliano
Based on the cartoon by Charles M Schulz

Charlie Brown, Snoopy and co. hold a special place in my heart. One of camping in the backyard with a stash of dad’s old peanuts comics. Of setting the VCR player to record early morning episodes of The Charlie Brown and Snoopy Show. Of dressing up as a WWI flying ace and hanging out inside a cardboard box, and collecting the happy meal snoopy toys with religious fervour.  Peanuts, to me, and I’m sure to many others, means childhood.

Revamping a franchise is always going to be slightly dangerous territory (despite Hollywood’s salivating obsession), because there’s both a chunk of audience who know what’s going on, but also a demographic that’s being introduced to this thing for the first time. There’s also the original text itself, which opens up a whole hefty discussion about appropriation and re-invention and all that fun stuff. How closely do you stick with your source? How far can the boundaries be pushed? And why this text; why now at this particular point in time? Why is it relevant, how can it be made relevant, what conversations can this text start or participate in, and why do they matter?

Peanuts is one of those things that goes hand in hand with nostalgia. Not necessarily in a literal sense- as Sydney Morning Herald critic Paul Byrnes notes, not many Australians like myself can look back on fond memories of ice-skating in the park and baseball games. But beyond the obsession that I (and my parents when they were young) had as a kid with the comics, the nostalgia that Peanuts has to offer now is a world that is very different to anything we’re seeing in animated films released over the past few years.

For starters, it’s a film for kids, that exclusively features kids. The top ten highest ranked family films on Rotten Tomatoes offers an eclectic mix of talking animals and toys, aliens, figments of the imagination, and adults. A handful of children thrown in, but rarely in leading roles.  None of the four highest grossing children’s films have children in leading roles, or for that matter, children at all. It’s a funny thing to realise that a notable difference in the Peanuts movie is its exclusive cast of children, and the funny kind of nostalgia this provokes.

Further to that, the children in Peanuts look and behave like children. They go to school, they play outside, they struggle with homework and have vivid imaginations. In my particular line of work, I see a lot of kids every day, and there’s something nostalgic about a movie where children don’t have a screen in hand and a look of utter boredom. I’m not saying technology is ruining youth (while I shake my cane from my rocking chair on the porch), but I am saying that when I see kids today, I see kids who have all the shiny things and couldn’t be more bored. Going back to the ‘conversation’ I mentioned, it’s interesting to see this perspective of childhood brought forward, one where kids roam free around the streets and make their own amusement, instead of having it bought for them.

I think there’s a definite place for Peanuts in a modern world and the film handled it very well. Stylistically I thought the movie was brilliant. It hit the perfect middle ground between retaining the recognisable characteristics of the original comic, whilst still being thoroughly (and I think, refreshingly) modern. A few critics have taken issue with the inclusion of pop songs. However, I think the music hit the perfect balance between paying homage to Vince Guaraldi’s compositions found in the old Peanuts movies and television show, alongside appropriate and unobtrusive contemporary tracks that complimented the updated visual style.

If I could take issue with one key detail, it would be the films relentless positivity and the sidelining of Snoopy as a sort of ‘animal sidekick’, instead of a character in his own right. The moroseness of the original Peanuts was a huge part of it’s appeal which I think got somewhat lost in the remake. If I could speculate, I think this may have something to do with the obvious emphasis on nostalgia. The film fell a little into the trap of romanticising the past, to the extent that it sacrificed this key thematic element of mild gloom. The film didn’t necessarily suffer for it, but for a returning audience it was a different that stood out and not in a good way.

It’s unfortunate that the happiness of it all is the part that falters in a film that otherwise strikes a great balance between appeasing a familiar (and grown up) audience, and introducing the Peanuts universe to a new generation of kids. I think Peanuts is a film that was ready to be made and handles the tricky territory of appropriation with dignity, and thought.

The Devil Wears Prada: Just Eat the Fucking Cupcake

The Devil Wears Prada
Released 30/06/06
Directed by David Frankel
Written by Aline Brosh McKenna
Based on the book by Lauren Weisberger

So as promised, I watched The Devil Wears Prada.

Where on earth do I begin.

Let’s pause for a moment and gather a little context.

I spent three years of my life at university studying a degree in English literature and film. Getting a job with these sorts of qualifications, you’ll be shocked to discover, is mildly difficult, although my shining credentials have equipped me with the skills to really read the hell out of the pile of rejection emails I have received.

Not that I’m bitter. Oh no. But here’s what does grind my goat (Get my goat? My gears? Grind something? Whatever). A film wherein a lucrative job is depicted as a burden, where putting your career first is mocked, where people whose freaking job is to communicate information to each other have a total ridiculous breakdown over a failure to communicate, and where a bloody college graduate moves to New York and walks right into the arms of an impossibly brilliant career opportunity which ‘millions would kill for’ but apparently requires one to be Anne Hathaway to get.

I’m definitely not bitter. No sir.

Anne Hathaway’s character, Andy, the one we’re supposed to believe is an overweight, dowdy, unfashionable journalist (you’re already stretching my suspension of disbelief movie!), makes an excellent point about two thirds of the way through. When talking about her boss, she astutely observes that if the devil herself were a man, people wouldn’t describe her as a career obsessed dragon-lady, rather she’d be applauded for her dedication and ruthless drive. My one wish is that the film hadn’t wavered on this stance as much as it did. I haven’t read the book (I’m going to, promise) and maybe when I do I’ll take back some of this, but there did seem to be a bit of a) she’s crazy in a particularly bitchy and feminine way and b) that women have to make the choice between family and career because in this world, it’s impossible to have both.

Case in point on this later note, the only two characters with developed personal lives are Miranda and Andy. Miranda is on to her second marriage and has twin daughters who she is painfully aware of disappointing as her career interferes with her ability to be an active presence in their lives. Andy’s career ruins her night out with her father, and jeopardises her relationship with the-shittiest-example-of-boyfriending-I’ve-seen-on-screen-in-a-while. In both cases, the blame is placed entirely on the ladies in question. Can we consider for a moment what the men in these instances were doing? That perhaps a relationship is a two-way street and if old-mate over here isn’t sticking to his side of the road than maybe there’s only so much one can do? Andy wins back shittiest boyfriend of the year by imploring that it was ‘all her fault and he was right and she’s so sorry’. Can we take a moment to appreciate that he was a jerk from the start? That not once did we see him trying to show an ounce of empathy or support towards his girlfriend’s ambition? Nope! And he’s fucking rewarded for it!

On THAT note, how the fuck is it that a trained fucking journalist, a literal professional communicator, completely and utterly fails in using basic communication skills with the people she’s close to? Like, I dunno, talking about your issues in a healthy manner and asking for support? Telling jerk-face when he’s being a jerk? Using your words to sort shit out instead of stalking around each other in silence? THIS IS NOT A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP. Like the damn cupcake scene. What the hell was that? USE YOUR WORDS PEOPLE. USE THEM. Talk to each other Resolve your issues. Eat the fucking cupcake. Move on.

Emily Blunt was her usual delightful self.

For all the issues I had with it, this wasn’t a completely horrible movie. Meryl Streep did good. Anne Hathaway was Anne Hathaway in all her Annie H glory.  I’d be curious to read the book and see how it compares, and may add a few notes later.

Edge of Tomorrow: Metaphors! Jellyfish! Confusion!

Edge of Tomorrow
Released 06/06/14
Directed by Doug Liman
Written by Christopher McQuarrie, Jez Butterworth, John-Henry Butterworth
Based on the book by Hiroshi Sakurazaka

I’m not usually one to watch action films, with superhero movies being the exception, but there was one big reason to finally get around to watching Edge of Tomorrow.

Emily Blunt.

She’s great. She’s just, great. Like, seriously. Ugh. Guys. Come on.

Next on my ‘to watch’ list is The Devil Wears Prada.  For now, let’s get back to Edge of Tomorrow.

Earth has been attacked by aliens. Octopus mechanical aliens who can manipulate time. How can you defeat an enemy who can manipulate time?

Obviously, you can’t.

Except you can! By killing one of the alpha aliens (which are not, however, the main aliens despite the misleading name) and absorbing their time controlling ability, even though this ability is located in a different part of the overall alien unit. Because that makes sense. For humans to use the time control ability, they have to die, and the day starts over.

Emily Blunt plays a super soldier badass called Rita who used to have the time control ability, but lost if after a blood transfusion. How she figured out she lost it is beyond me, because wouldn’t she have to die to know for sure? But anyway.

Tom Cruise plays Cage, the ex ad-man turned army public relations/idiot soldier who knows diddly squat about combat and yet somehow manages to kill one of the alphas and start resetting the day. He and Rita team up to try and end the war.

That’s more or less the plot of Edge of Tomorrow. It’s a funny, well crafted movie with an abundance of plot holes. If you overlook these, it’s quite decent.

But where is the fun in that?

WHY does the army insist on sending a soldier who knows shit all about combat onto the frontline of a warzone equipped with weapons he can’t use where he will almost definitely kill more humans than aliens? There is literally no reason to do this. He is a major liability and will definitely do more harm than good. There is no reason they would want to get rid of him, after all, he’s on their side. Except, you know, the plot.

WHY doesn’t Rita just kill another Alpha and take back her time control ability that way?

WHY doesn’t anyone believe in time control in a time when aliens exist and there is overwhelming evidence to support that they’re telling the truth?

WHY haven’t the aliens crushed humanity already if they can CONTROL FREAKING TIME?

And WHY has no one else noticed that the aliens are basically just giant bluebottle jellyfish (a.k.a the Portuguese man o’ war), which you may be interested to know are not actually jellyfish at all, but are actually siphonophorae- a colonial organism made up of hundreds of tiny jellyfish all working together to kill you as painfully as possible?

Also can we talk about how irritatingly convenient it is for alien species to all be linked up to one ‘brain’ that if destroyed will wipe out all the little aliens simultaneously, which happens in both Edge of Tomorrow and in the first Avengers movie? What is this, some kind of metaphor for working together whilst also appreciating the value of independence and individual thought? That mindlessly following a leader will be your downfall? That humanities soul saving grace again alien invasion is that although we are strongest when we band together, we should never forget our singularly complex mind and self as being a vital part of an overall system that is as complex in it’s individual pieces as it is as a whole? And that it’s ones ability to think and be a free, independent, autonomous being that ultimately benefits the greater good more so than one system that rules everyone as a set of mindless pawns?

Nah, I doubt it.

Anyway, back to Emily Blunt being a badass! Very cool. Would watch again.

The Lion King is Macbeth from Scar’s POV

The Lion King
Released 15/06/94
Directed by Roger Allers & Rob Minkoff
Written by Irene Mecchi, Jonathan Roberts & Linda Woolverton

Being as I am, a deftly sophisticated and terribly well read individual, I was in the car talking to my boyfriend about Shakespeare. Specifically, Hamlet. Specifically, how Hamlet was appropriated in the roughest sense to make Disney’s The Lion King (1994)

Fine. We were talking about The Lion King.

The Lion King Does have certain echoes of Hamlet in it. Namely, the uncle killing the father to steal his throne, and the son’s vengeance. There’s a ghost too, voiced by Darth Vader and showing up in the clouds over Africa. All good things. The Shakespeare appropriation goes further though, as The Lion King spawned a sequel based loosely off of Romeo and Juliet, and a third film that sits parallel to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (by Tom Stoppard). That last one is an appropriation of an appropriation of Hamlet; take a moment to wrap your brain around that and then let’s move on!

We were talking about all of this, when Boyfriend mentioned he often confused Hamlet with another Shakespeare play, Macbeth. Being the deftly sophisticated and terribly well read individual I am, I has a chuckle at this adorable peasant-like ignorance, and then had a thought. Maybe Boyfriend was on to something. Maybe The Lion King has a little more Shakespeare than first thought. Maybe, just maybe… Oh yes indeed. The Lion King is Macbeth from Scar’s point of view!

Mind. Blown.

Let’s examine this, shall we? Macbeth, set in Scotland, tells the story of, uh, Macbeth. Macbeth has a claim to the throne second to the King, Duncan. But Duncan undermines this claim and instead names his son as his successor. Macbeth (with a little prompting from three witches and his wife) murders Duncan, shifts the blame, and takes the throne. The son flees. Under his rule, Scotland is in chaos. Unwilling to abandon ship, Macbeth sticks it out to the bloody end, when the son returns, kills him, and reclaims his throne.

GEE. THAT SOUNDS FAMILIAR.

Scar was next in line for the throne, until Mufassa named his son Simba as his successor. Scar (with a little prompting from three hyenas) murders Mufassa, shifts the blame, and takes the throne. Simba flees. Under his rule, Africa is in chaos- no food, no water, nada. Unwilling to abandon ship, Scar sticks it out the the bloody end, when Simba returns, kills him, and reclaims his throne.

Disney, you clever minx.

There are a few obvious issues with this reading. The first is the witches. I have likened them, very loosely, to the hyenas, who are Scar’s assistants. The only real parallels are that there are three of them, they cackle and cause trouble, and they hail Macbeth/Scar as a king. However, it’s also worth noting that Shakespeare perhaps didn’t write the major witches scenes in Macbeth– Thomas Middleton probably did. The connection is lose, but forgivable.

Lady Macbeth is a more major raised eyebrow. She doesn’t have a parallel in The Lion King, which is a shame because she does play a rather pivotal role in the play. Arguably, this omission from the film can be justified by the way lion prides are structured, with one Alpha male that mates with all the ladies. Realism on this side, I think, justifies straying from the original text.

So there we have it! Children’s films proving yet again how complex and sneaky they can be. Simba is our Hamlet; Scar is our Macbeth. Let the word of Shakespeare live long, and prosper.

Oh God. I think I like America’s Next Top Model.

America’s Next Top Model
Created by Tyra Banks
22 Seasons (2003-present)
CBS Television Distribution

I, long time feminist and staunch hater of reality television, enjoy watching America’s Next Top Model. That’s not a sentence I ever thought I would type.

I spent a very long time both avoiding this show, and being extremely judgemental towards it. I guess it’s easy to be judgemental of something you know only by face value. The concept sounded ridiculous and I wrote it off as being so whilst knowing exactly zero about it. What more could it be than stupid bitchy people posing and playing dress-ups, and exposure for an industry that’s the driving force behind consumer culture and mindless capitalist excess? Not to mention that incredible degree of vanity and narcissism, or the questionable ethics of positing such narcissism at centre stage during a time when anxiety about personal aesthetic has never been rifer. These are all threads of intellectual superiority and snobbery that I held onto for a long time.  But now, I’ve watched the show. I watched it, and then I watched some more, and then I binge watched my way through three seasons. I couldn’t get enough. And yes, part of that is the mindless entertainment that is reality television. It’s easy to soak up, digest, and forget. Which is why I was confused by how I couldn’t stop thinking about it. There was something about this show, beyond the pomp and silliness, beyond the glittering photo shoots and dramatic eliminations, that spoke to me.

Finally, I figured it out.

ANTM is, as expected, utterly ridiculous. Ostentatious and dramatic to boot. But it’s also intensely self-aware and utterly unglamorous. The contestants are diverse and surprising. Yes, there are the ditzy, the privileged, the vain, and the bitchy. But then there are the Harvard graduates, mothers, fathers, and a huge range of socio-economic backgrounds. There are huge loud personalities, and those that are crippled mute by shyness until they step in front of the camera. The show engages with social issues in unexpected ways. I didn’t know, for example, that male models are typically paid 10% of what their female counterparts make. Plus, while there has been endless exposure for diversity of female models (and the show makes a point to include contestants who are plus sizes, taller or shorter than average, and people with disabilities), male models haven’t nearly the same mainstream leeway when it comes to the ‘ideal’ body type.

ANTM doesn’t conform to stereotypes, and puts these issues front and centre.

There’s another interesting aspect of the show which I very briefly mentioned, and that is how utterly unglamorous the modelling industry looks. The kind of work required is… well, it’s bizarre. It’s not enough to stand in front of the camera and pose, and it’s not enough to just look pretty. Some of the stuff they do is, quite frankly, hilarious, but somehow produces incredible photographs. On the topic of prettiness, perhaps my favourite aspect of the show has been the concept that fashion and aesthetic isn’t about being beautiful. To paraphrase a message by the shows host Tyra Banks from season 15, “a girl watching at home might think, ‘hey’ that girls funny looking and she’s beautiful. I’m funny looking, so maybe I’m beautiful too’”. The majority of the contestants, honestly, aren’t that attractive. But they are interesting.

Part of me wonders if I avoided the show for so long because I suspected it would make me feel bad about myself. I’m not a stupid person. I have spent my whole life being told again and again the same things about Photoshop, about realistic standards, about everyone being beautiful in different ways, the same messages over and over. But- and here’s the point I want to make- never have they hit home with as much clarity until I started watching ANTM. Beauty is totally subjective and what counts for more is your attitude, your confidence, and your ability to be comfortable in your skin. I have no desire to be a model- especially after watching contestants be painted white, suspended upside down and told to look possessed, “but also look sexy!”- but what I like about this show is the honest and unflinching approach it takes towards its own industry.

The Other Message In Inside Out

Inside Out
Written by Pete Docter, Meg LeFauve, Josh Cooley
Directed by Pete Doctor
Released 19/06/15

Recently one of my work colleagues was discussing an interaction they had with a small girl who approached them and asked,

“Are you a boy or a girl?”

To which my colleague replied, “What do you think I am?”

“You look like a girl, but you have short hair like a boy.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I took the opportunity to subtly and positively attempt to teach them that gender shouldn’t be such a big deal and that it’s okay to be either or neither.”

“Do you think she understood?”

“Probably not.”

And yes, maybe kids don’t understand that life is messy and people are complicated and all binaries are false binaries but whatever. That’s not going to stop Pixar from making a move about it! Inside Out (2015) was released earlier this year and when it was over, I felt like I wasn’t fully comprehending the whole picture yet. Yes, the message about emotions hit home, and all the business about growing up and becoming a more complex human being with the ever changing intricacies of personality and feeling. When I saw it again though, I realised that there is so much more going on. Let’s talk about how Pixar has managed to hit the nail on the head with their representations of gender, and why this matters.

Let’s start with our protagonist, Riley. Riley plays competitive ice hockey. She also loves her butterfly curtains. We never see her in anything other than jeans and hoodies. She also daydreams about her imaginary boyfriend*. On a surface level, Riley is already a character that doesn’t subscribe to typical gender roles. But let’s do as the film does and move inside. We get to see the insides of a few character’s heads, but what’s notable about Riley’s in particular is that she alone has an internal cast of characters of both males, and females. WELL THIS JUST GOT INTERESTING!

Look even more closely, and one may notice that the choice of colours for the internal cast is either gender neutral (yellow, green and red) or gender reversed- blue for a girl, purple for a boy, and the pinkest character is implied to be male, the imaginary friend Bing-Bong. The colours and the aforementioned combination of characteristics given to Riley offer an interesting visual play on how we may perceive gender in the film. One must not forget, of course, that this is a film for kids. I don’t the films message is so blatantly “forget gender! Just be a human!” But the message is there- it’s okay to be whatever you want to be.

Embracing who you are is just one side of the coin. “It’s okay to not be okay” seems to be the other message in the film, and I think there’s a valuable lesson there; not just to embrace the complexity of human emotion, but the complexity of the human experience overall. “Not being okay” is strong wording, perhaps better phrased as, “things not going as expected”. It’s okay to feel your feelings, it’s okay to struggle sometimes. And it’s okay to fall somewhere in between what’s generally accepted as ‘normal’.

Could it be that Pixar has given us a protagonist that falls into that grey area between both ends of the spectrum? Surely not. And yet, there it is. I’m going to go ahead and guess the decision was less about subtly and positively suggesting that gender is a false binary, and assume it was a financial decision, you know, so the film appeals to both boys and girls. But if Pixar is accidentally participating in a conversation that is only just starting to edge out from university social sciences classes, they hey! I can get on board with that.

*Yes, I know gender and sexuality have no correlation. Just, come on. Work with me here.

Sucker Punch: The Underlying Struggle for Pants

Sucker Punch
Written by Zack Snyder & Steve Shibuya
Directed by Zach Snyder
Released 25/03/11

To be fair, there is at least one notable scene in Sucker Punch (2011) where a female wears pants, and it happens in the very first moments of the film. Before being committed to an asylum where pants are absolutely forbidden, Babydoll, our doe eyed, pigtail wearing protagonist, adorns herself with pink pyjamas. Including pants. This is also the only moment where Babydoll finds herself with a glimmer of real tangible hope. At liberty, and left with the inheritance of her dead mother’s estate, for a brief moment Babydoll has something resembling power. This power is dashed when step-father steps in, murders little sister, and commits Babydoll to an asylum.  The pants are gone.

In the asylum, no one wears pants. As the girls are locked away they are given hospital gowns to wear. Within the patriarchal structure of the prison-like asylum, the choice of outfit offers an appropriate metaphorical resonance. No pants; no power. The same ruling goes at the bordello that Babydoll imagines. Women are ‘owned’ by men, and given naught but thigh-high stockings and tight, restrictive camisoles, somewhere between dance-wear and lingerie. No pants. So it goes as the movie continues. There is a distinct lack of women in trousers, and there is a distinct lack of women with real power. The movie is a bleak representation of women trapped within patriarchal structures. Here, the few ‘powers’ afforded to them- sexuality, wit, money, sisterhood- are undermined again and again by the cruel reality that in this world, the illusion of power is simply not the same as true empowerment. Thigh high stockings are damn close to pants, but pants they are not.

This is never more evident than in the fantasy representations of the girls’ struggle for liberty. These fantasies are illusions. The real world comes crashing back in, rudely interrupting what could be a faint glimmer of hope for some kind of personal empowerment. This concept is explored as the girls attempt to steal a kitchen knife. The music shorts out, the fantasy world flickers and dissipates, the spell is broken and someone gets killed. Imagined power is not the same as real liberation, as is thrown into stark perspective when one by one the girls are murdered. The (lack of) pants reflect this. This is the fantasy world, the one place where the girls can hold on to their illusions of power. Even here, there are no pants.

This is not a film about female empowerment. It’s a film about the stark reality of a person oppressed. The film mocks your typical feel-good “all will be well for the struggling minority so long as they retain hope!” with the bleakly presented reality that these struggles are not easily overcome. The structures designed to oppress are strong, and those that participate in them, be they the one in control or the one who blindly submits to authority, make them stronger. Liberty is possible, but it comes at a price. By the film’s conclusion, one girl has escaped the stronghold of the asylum, but she has not yet found pants. In a pale pink dress, she is still at the mercy of these established structures of power. As she goes to board a bus, she is stopped by officials searching for the missing girl. It seems like the films struggle will have been for naught, when another figure of power, a man driving the bus, fights for her liberty and wins.

In effect, the liberation of our young woman has not equated to empowerment. She is still at the mercy of the pre-established patriarchal structures, and it’s these structures that have to be changed, more so than the minds of the individuals. We see a glimpse of this in the friendly bus driver, a participant in the pre-established structures of power using that power to secure the liberty of someone at its mercy. The message of the film is not that, through hard work and unity, battles can be won. The message is that the realities of oppression and seeking empowerment, no matter what minority you belong to, is a struggle that Hollywood drastically misrepresents. The single hero striking out on their own isn’t enough. It’s the structures that create oppression that must be changed, and only when these structures have changed, can there be pants for all.

“Smoke Gets In Your Eyes”: The Toxic World

Mad Men episode 1 ‘Smoke Gets In Your Eyes’
Written by Matthew Weiner 
Directed by Alan Taylor
Released 19/07/07

Mad Men episode 1 ‘Smoke Gets in Your Eyes’, jumps right in with a question: how does one sell a product that kills? Namely, cigarettes. Don Draper is the man faced with this dilemma, a smooth looking, smooth talking, smooth operator. A ‘lucky-strike’ man as he so accurately brands himself. The cigarette dilemma strings a metaphorical thread throughout the episode. In this world, where what’s real is a matter of popular opinion, the realities that can’t be hidden are instead wilfully ignored. Except that’s not the case at all. Mad Men hides nothing, masks nothing and is authentic to its cringe inducing core. Drinking, smoking, womanising, and casual racist and sexist exchanges are all in a day’s work. There lies the strength of this show- its authenticity steers clear of falling into a trap of nostalgia; romanticising the period into something it’s not.

How it achieves this is simple. The lens of advertising deconstructs both the process of selling the unsellable, and the process of how our characters construct their wayward lives. Don Draper warns us off any romantic notions. Love as we know it, so he tells us, was invented by people like him to sell products. Likewise, kindness and camaraderie are tools to get what you want. Don’s interactions with Pete Campbell, a young, greasy co-worker trying desperately- too desperately- to get ahead, are some of the best moments in the show. There’s something very satisfying about watching Pete get cut down by the unshakeably cool Don. But there’s more to these moments than humour. For a brief moment, the mask is lifted and the ugly underside of this glamorous world comes out. Our characters lives and their word as ad-men are like the cigarettes they sell- meaningless statements and empty words to hide the toxicity underneath. So sets the theme of this episode that serves as our introduction to this world.

A world of drinking scotch at ten in the morning, endless rounds of aspirin, and business meetings with bloody Marys and shrimp cocktails. One of the show’s many strengths is the detail given to its 60’s aesthetic. The episode had a budget of $3million and one can certainly appreciate the effort that has gone into creating an almost flawless 1960’s New York look and feel. It is the details like the aforementioned shrimp cocktails that take a scene and give it a touch of retro glamour. What makes it work, however, is that the tick of authenticity isn’t only working to create nostalgia. In this world where appearances are everything, nostalgia is undercut by the ‘deliberateness’ of it all- the staging of a scene within the narrative of the show to achieve a certain end. Allow me to elaborate. As we are reminded again and again, very little in this world is at it seems. In the scene of the meeting over shrimp and cocktails, a Jewish man is falsely presented as the company’s art director, as a token gesture for the Jewish client. The whole thing is a lie for appearance’s sake, a meaningless construct that comes with a cringe inducing lack of political correctness. The reminder is clear- don’t romanticise what you see. It’s only on the surface, and what’s underneath isn’t all shrimp and cocktails.

What is perhaps one of the episodes most interestingly staged and clever moments is the very last scene. We close on an image of Don kneeling by his sleeping children while his beautiful wife stands (poses) in the doorway, fondly looking on. A scene staged to look like any print advertisement of 60’s domestic life, it’s sharply undercut by what we know about Don Draper. His life is a farce, and Alan Taylor captures this excellently with a scene that looks too perfect to be real, too still, too self-aware, too deliberate. The scene captures the major themes of the episode, the 60’s aesthetic, and the self-awareness and deliberate pretence of advertising. It’s a simple moment that speaks volumes and is a powerful note to end on.

Episode one ‘Smoke Gets In Your Eyes’ is well constructed and thematically engaging. It plays authenticity against nostalgia in a way that is a thoroughly modern approach to a period drama.