The Bitch and the Brave One and All the Gray In Between

What's the difference between a bitch and a strong woman? No, this isn't some sort of off-colored joke, it's a legitimate question. I mean, there doesn't seem to be much of a difference. Now, by now you're probably already offended but let me take a minute to backtrack. I'm not saying that all women are bitches, I'm just saying that the women that have the courage to speak their minds on policy and the way things are, usually are remembered as being bitches. That doesn't make it right and it's certainly not fair, so it seemed like a fair question.

See, I arrived at this decision after a couple beers and the IMDb page of Katharine Hepburn. I'd heard horror stories of studio politics and even directors that, essentially, refused to work with her. Now, this may not sound like an average night to most, but it's pretty par for the course as I scrolled through her bio and trivia and personal quotes.

Up until this point, I'd always enjoyed Katharine Hepburn in the work she'd done. She's absolutely charming alongside Cary Grant in Bringing Up Baby and The Philadelphia Story or alongside Spencer Tracy in Adam's Rib or The Desk Set. What appreciation I had for the woman going into this grew as I read more and more about her. Her tenacity, her wit, even her politics were incredibly ahead of their time.

Why is it then that, to put it lightly, Katharine Hepburn is considered to be a bitch? I mean, after all, she only did what most of her male co-stars were certainly doing at the time. Then again, time, as a contextual piece, has a funny way of playing tricks on you. Even sorting through all of the stuff I find out about her, not even I can make up my mind. I think she was most likely particular, or stubborn in a word, but she's certainly got a damning reputation just for being stubborn.

Besides, she had to have been doing something right. I mean, the woman received 4 Best Actress Oscars (better than Meryl Streep) yet Hollywood history has relegated her to the sidelines as yet another cautionary tale of difficult actresses. It's hard to say if she'd be considered by today's standards. I mean, she's no "bathe me every day in only Evian water", but she would have spoken her mind about the state of women in Hollywood.

In the end, it's difficult to say why so many famous and/or successful women get dismissed as power hungry or selfish bitches. The title is most certainly undeserved. Especially when it comes to the likes of Katharine Hepburn who straddles that fine line between being a bitch and being honest. The two are so difficult to tell apart these days, but it seems time that we start working on differentiating the two.

A Dick and a Dream

It's hard to say what it is about Hung that keeps me engrossed. Is it the well-written characters? Is it the topical nature of the show itself? Lord knows it isn't the whole male prostitute thing. Don't get me wrong, I'm not prude, but I just always have a rough time with the way that Hollywood seems to glamorize the profession when, in actuality, I'm pretty certain most of the men and women forced to work in the industry would rather be doing something else.

Well, that's actually just the thing. There isn't much glorifying so to speak. I mean, sure, some of the women that Ray finds himself with are crazy hot and you know he gets the best of both worlds, but they show that the whole thing is hard work and a little degrading too. I mean, I'm sure there are all sorts of things wrong with that last sentence, but it works for the same reason Weeds works (or should I say worked? After this past season, it's difficult to say if it's worth watching anymore). At the end of the episode, you may not respect their decision or their work or their "lifestyle", whatever you want to call it, but it's the characters that keeps you coming back for more.

Another dynamic that I know that I personally enjoy is the exploitation of the character Ray. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I want to see him fail or punished even, but think about it. We live in a society that exploits countless women, selling them things they don't need, and making them think there's no dignity in aging because some man will just dump you for a younger piece of tail anyway. No, really, it's kind of messed up how our society tries to keep women down. But that's not the real point, because even in Hung there are some clearly shallow women. No, it's the fact that the men are being exploited just as well. Just like so many women before him, Ray is understood as a pure physicality. Hell, even the show's title illustrates just what ray is. Sure, the show works to flesh him out, but in his interaction with women? Just about every one of them says the same thing and let's be real, it's all about his penis. Finally, Hollywood is working on creating a man forged out of humility like so many of the women that Hollywood tells women they should strive to be.

There are plenty things to like about Hung and its universe. The characters are compelling and ultimately flawed enough to feel real. The very nature of the show is surprisingly relevant. But in the end, why do so many of us come back? Well, besides in the hope of another nude scene by Thomas Jane? Because, as Ray says in the season 1 finale, all he's get is a dick and a dream and if that isn't the American way, what is?

The Days of the Drive-In & Counter Cultural Cinema

As we live in the day and age of the multiplex, it’s difficult, if not entirely impossible, to recall the days of the drive-in. Film has become so much more of a visual experience than it has remained a social one. The atmosphere of the drive-in aside, film used to be about something. It used to be filled with the kind of urgency and purpose that is all too absent in most the films of today. Those movies that do have something to actually say, often stumble over themselves trying to articulate it or riddle it with heavy-handed symbolism as to remain safe. However, to say that all films have lost this urgency would be criminally negligent. It seems that some filmmakers still pride themselves on their sense of purpose. Few filmmakers embody this spirit more than the aggressively dysfunctional John Waters and the ultra-violent Quentin Tarantino. While many other commercial Hollywood filmmakers outnumber these auteurs, they use their cult following to their advantage. With some of their more recent films, namely Waters’ Cecil B. Demented and Tarantino’s Death Proof, these directors have glorified the dying culture of the drive-in, when movies had purpose whether it was topical or strictly social.
With Cecil B. Demented, Waters seems to be mourning the loss of anger in filmmaking. By the time of this film’s release in 2000, Waters had not lost his edge, but rather, he had underestimated the tolerance of the general public. His 1994 film, Serial Mom, featured Kathleen Turner as a sadistic serial killer in a direct assault on the values of suburbia. Whether audiences understood that he was making fun of their values or not can only be speculated, but Waters certainly suffered from the general acceptance of this movie. Cecil B. Demented seems to be a return to his roots. He revels in the chaos that he creates upon Honey’s kidnapping and delights in detailing her descent into, arguably, madness. However, the real victim in this picture is Hollywood itself. With this film, Waters criticizes the accessibility of film and, more over, the ability of film to shock. While in the first part of the film, Honey is kidnapped, creating mass hysteria in the film community, it’s not long before we see the film community disown her. Waters doesn’t take this time to demonize the film industry, he quickly re-directs Honey’s purpose in making this film. She works outside of the system and only then is she able to make something truly remarkable, something revolutionary, something with a driving sense of purpose. Although Waters captures the necessity of film to communicate with urgency in a rather unorthodox manner, the climax of the film is one of the few instances in modern cinema of shock value with a sense of purpose. Furthermore, the setting of the drive-in is crucial to the film’s recollection of drive-in cinema. One of the issues that most drive-in films discussed was the concept of authority. Waters may be heavy-handed in having the final showdown between the law and the underground at a drive-in theater, but once again, this drives the film’s point home, the necessity for a return to drive-in cinema to truly stimulate the audience. Needless to say, Waters engages his audience throughout the film, but the climax, as with most Waters films, is unforgettable.
The other instance of modern cinema throwing back to its roots is Tarantino’s Death Proof. Once again, as with Cecil B Demented, the references to the drive-in aren’t as visual, except for the clear case of Stuntman Mike’s car driving through the drive-in marquee, but are often more thematic. This infatuation Tarantino has with the counter-cultural issues of drive-in cinema come across painfully transparent. While some students enjoy the work of Tarantino, more often than not he takes large chunks of other movies and calls them his own. Death proof is no exception. The first scene of the film is filled with drug references, which is an important aspect of the counter-culture in the days of the drive-in. Even his choice of leads recall the days of exploitation, although it’s difficult to establish the “leads” of the film as they are introduced almost halfway through the movie. Regardless, the use of women in the film is directly out of the 1970s, calling upon such classics as Coffy and Foxy Brown. The dialogue of the film communicates the personalities of these women who, at this point in the film industry, are no better than caricatures. Of course, the women are bold and beautiful, but more importantly, they’re independent. Although it takes all 3 of them to do so, they’re able to take down Stuntman Mike. One of the things about the film’s conclusion that indicates Tarantino’s willingness to have fun with the formula, is his handling of the male figures. More than anything else, they’re established as sexual predators, preying on the supposed vulnerability of these women. The most interesting change to the male characters isn’t out of keeping with the time of exploitation film making, by stripping him of his masculinity and having Stuntman Mike break down and cry, but the emasculation of the male is heightened to a comical extent. All in all, Tarantino fondly reminisces about the days of exploitation filmmaking and the drive-in, but in creating his own exploitation film, he falls short. It seems too reminiscent to faster Pussycat Kill Kill to be credited as a Tarantino film, nevertheless, he does leave his indelible mark.
Although the days of the drive-in are behind us, the days of counter-culture are not. While the drive-in attacked issues of “outsiders” through its films, the drive-in theater and the atmosphere it created has since been rendered archaic. Nowadays, films revel in their ability to manipulate their audience, to remove them from reality and to amaze them with special effects, but there are still filmmaker who remember. Filmmakers like Waters and Tarantino have passed down their interpretations of drive-in cinema to modern movie audiences today. Whether this was a last failed effort or it will have a lasting impact on the generation of filmmakers, none of us can claim to know. However, one can hope that the memories of drive-ins and what drive-in culture stood for will never fade from America’s identity completely.

Come So Far (Got So Far To Go)

It only seemed appropriate to name this after a show tune... As people take to the streets after week-long fasts and all0night drinking binges, it's hard to exactly remember what pride is all about. Don't get me wrong, in theory, I understand, but somewhere in between its supposed political importance and its celebration of decadence, something's lost on me.

See, I'm not going to be one of those people who says that bigotry is well and gone. I don't buy it when people say they aren't racist because they voted for Obama (because, let's be real, who really wanted to put Palin in a position of power?) or when they say they aren't homophobic because the TIVO Ellen. No, we live in a new age of bigotry, where indifference is disguised as acceptance. As we celebrate with decadence, so many people forget that there's so much left that's worth fighting for.

This isn't supposed to be a reminder to people or even supposed to shame people into listening to a political agenda or acting; this is simply my viewpoint. Pride hasn't lost its importance. in fact, if anything, it's easy to see it's still tangled in there amongst the floats of drag queens and shirtless men glistening with baby oil. The need for political activism is even recognized in the parade itself. Granted, it's usually at the very beginning or the very end (I honestly can't remember) but it doesn't receive the publicity or the praise that the age old adage "sex sells" does. But still, there are plenty of things worth fighting for.

While people use the opportunity of publicity to enjoy themselves, it's easy to see why they would do that. Granted, the self-imposed dieting and work outs seem to embody some of the more superficial qualities of gay men, I can't complain. People will celebrate as they see fit and while I may not agree with many of the methods, that's what pride is all about. Enjoy and be safe everybody!

Saawariya's Exploration of Women in Bollywood

When asked to explain what makes a film an American film or, in this case, an Indian film, answers will tend to vary depending on whom you ask. However, up until recently, my answer would have been something along the lines of a product of the nation itself. What this could consist of is a great many things, but most specifically, I feel that movies should be understood as indicative of the nation’s culture and its attitudes, which can be surmised based on characters, dialogue, and themes among many other things. One of the themes that has been a critical part of class discussion has the dynamic of gender roles, particularly pertaining to women. The film that I chose to watch outside of class was the 2007 Bollywood film Saawariya, a story about a musician named Raj and the prostitute who loves him, Gulabji, and the woman he loves, Sakina, who has promised herself to another man. Although the film is primarily known for its lavish use of color and magical realism, one of the most interesting aspects of the film to me was the handling of the female characters. Up until this film, the extent of my knowledge of Bollywood cinema and even India itself has been somewhat limited. However, with this film, what I thought I knew about Bollywood and specifically the roles of women as typically seen in these films and themes that we’ve seen in other films, primarily the idea of sacrifice, was absolutely turned on its head.
Although there are plenty of instances in this film that defy the typical roles of women in Bollywood, one of the first instances is the usage of a prostitute as the storyteller. While we have seen indications of prostitutes before, these women tend to be courtesans, or at least higher class prostitutes who are more renowned for their singing and dancing skills than their talents in the bedroom. However, in no uncertain terms, Gulabji is a lowly prostitute. While she proclaims herself “princess of the streets” she also says later in the film that her body is essentially her only asset. There is no sense of disillusionment about what she does. Furthermore, Raj, who is a very likeable protagonist, has no qualms with this. His landlady and Sakina both scold him for consorting with a known prostitute on one occasion each, but that does little to question his devotion to her as a friend. As we have discussed in class, women are particularly forced to sacrifice some part of themselves, and Gulabji is no exception. Although she is clearly in love with Raj and even bestows the title Saawariya, which means “beloved” on him, it’s quite clear early on that she will never be with him. After Sakina has scorned Raj for what seems like the last time, he goes to Gulabji, even offering to pay her for her services. However, she refuses him, knowing that his heart is not true and he’s only coming to her out of the pain of Sakina’s rejection. Her sacrifice, unlike most of the other ones we’ve seen in these films, isn’t forced upon her. She willingly does it out of respect for not only Raj, but for herself. This kind of respect for women is something we haven’t seen in most of these films.
Also having to do with the idea of sacrifice is the love story between Raj and Sakina and the man she has promised herself to, Imaan. Even the most casual observer, it’s very clear that Sakina has held off with any other man, because she is waiting for Imaan to return to her. However, Raj struggles with this, even to the point of burning a love letter that Sakina asks him to give to Imaan. In the end, Imaan does return, despite Raj trying to prevent the inevitable. Sakina returns to Imaan shortly before the film’s end, but as a result, Raj is left with no one. While in most of the great Bollywood love stories we’ve watched, there’s rarely a happy ending and there seems to be almost always a great sacrifice made on behalf of the greater good, it’s usually the woman who suffers. In this film, Sakina is reunited with the man she loves, even at the expense of Raj. It is Raj who performs the sacrifice saying, “Even if you loved me for a few moments, it’s enough to give me joy for a lifetime.” This is not to say that Sakina doesn’t perform a sacrifice of her own. For instance, she’s been waiting at a bridge at midnight every night for a year, which is time she’ll never get back. She even holds back from loving Raj too much, for fear that Imaan will return. She certainly does sacrifice, but in the end, it is her sacrifice that pays off. Raj is left with the memories of the 4 nights they spent together, but even these memories seem to be tainted by his agonizing over what their future could have been. Ultimately, Raj sacrifices more than Sakina was ever willing to, but the film’s treatment of the idea of his sacrifice is more bittersweet than we see in most of these films. Once again, his decision to let her go is based upon his desire to see her happy. It is not something forced or resentful, but rather, it is the purest expression of love.
The roles of women and the sacrifices they make are staples of Bollywood cinema and even in the more pragmatic world outside of the movie theaters; they seem to exist as a statement of the role of women in Indian culture. However, with Saawariya, the women seem to exist in a world entirely their own, in a world outside of the realities of India. The role of Gulabji is a testament to this. While she is doomed to a life of prostitution, she is neither victimized, nor is she scorned for her profession. She is given texture and dimensionality, which seems uncommon for most of these roles. Even though some of her actions are questionable, they are performed with love and respect for Raj’s well being, adding a complicated element to an already complicated love triangle. Even by the end, it seems almost impossible for audiences to fully dislike her. In regards to the role of Sakina and Raj’s sacrifice, while it seems that the traditional gender roles of Bollywood are switched. Furthermore, the idea of sacrifice, as explored in this film and in this paper, exists in an entirely different state than seen in most earlier Bollywood films. While it saddens the characters and the audience that has grown to love them, sacrifice is not seen as a hardship, but as the ultimate expression of love.

The Woman We See Through Hitchcock's Rear Window

Alfred Hitchcock’s 1954 masterpiece, Rear Window, tells the story of a man so desperately bored with his own life that he begins to watch his neighbors to pass the time. While the films’ undeniable focus is on a man named Thorwald who may or may not have murdered his wife, the film’s interest run far deeper than the issue of Jeffries’ sanity. Most of the focus on this film was Hitchcock’s mastery of suspense as well as its technical innovations. However, it also addresses some deeper themes, rather than just entertaining the audience. One obvious theme of the film is voyeurism. It’s seen in almost every shot, which are virtually all seen from the perspective of Jeff’s apartment. However, far more serious than the theme of voyeurism are the issues of gender dynamics which are prominent throughout this film. Hitchcock manages to entertain his viewers while addressing issues such as voyeurism, the male gaze, and masculinity paired with the emasculation of the male lead, while making a commentary on domesticity.
Voyeurism is an idea that is far from foreign to modern viewers as television runs rampant with reality programs. However, Hitchcock addresses voyeurism in a time when it was frequently referred to as “sick” or “perverse”. The fact of the matter is he managed to capitalize on the importance of the voyeur ahead of its time. In the film, Stella and Lisa frequently scold Jeff for his interest in his neighbors’ private lives, but Jeff’s voyeuristic tendencies lead to the apprehension of a murderer. This suggests a complexity that is not often afforded the voyeur, who is repeatedly called a “peeping tom”. Hitchcock doesn’t seem to be rewarding Jeff for his tendencies, but rather suggests that voyeurism is more than a fetish. He suggests that an interest in others is important. Jeff’s interest in others not only leads to the apprehension of Mr. Thorwald, but because of his voyeuristic tendencies, he also indirectly saves the life of Miss Lonelyhearts. Whether it is called voyeurism or something else, Hitchcock seems to express that the activity isn’t as detrimental as society says. In Jeff’s case, it is due to his limitation. The circumstances create the voyeur and as audience members, Hitchcock doesn’t shame Jeff, but illustrates that we are guilty of the same crimes.
However, Jeff spies on more people than the Thorwalds and Miss Lonelyhearts. The character of Miss Torso illustrates his more recreational voyeuristic tendencies. Due to the fact that most of the film is seen from Jeff’s apartment or through Jeff’s eyes, the audience is given incite to the male gaze. We see most of the women throughout the film as either objects of pity, such as the woman below Miss Torso who is seen as nagging and matronly or in the case of Miss Torso herself as sexual beings. Not only does Jeff watch her, but also the recently married man across the way watches her as an escape from his own wife’s nagging. The only complexity that is afforded her comes from another female character, Lisa, who suggests that she’s a victim. However, Jeff quickly dismisses the idea and continues to watch her. Throughout the rest of the film, there is little complexity to Miss Torso. Although we finally see her happy at the end of the film with the arrival of what is assumed to be her boyfriend, it is only in the films closing that the audience even begins to see her as anything but a sexual object.
Another important theme of this film is the importance of masculinity and the emasculation of Jeff. Part of the importance of masculinity is derived from the treatment of most women as sexual objects. However, we also see the importance of “being a man” in several other scenes. Jeff’s inability to do his job may as well render him impotent because he has lost that crucial element of his manhood. Hitchcock illustrates this through dialogue and props, such as Jeff’s smashed camera, but more importantly through the people surrounding Jeff. One example is in Jeff’s own apartment where he is doted on by Stella as well as Lisa. While Stella’s relationship is almost entirely professional, the audience recognizes Lisa as the Jeff’s love interest. However, Lisa deviates from the standard love interest of most of these films by acknowledging issues of class and lifestyle that mirror reality outside of the film. Her overall nature, which Jeff characterizes as frivolous, suggests she is of a higher class and in relationships of the 50s as well as today, money is a factor. Rear Window is no different. Throughout the film, we see both these women dote on Jeff as a child; the key difference being that he is clearly a grown man. This lack of masculinity is a driving force in the movie. There is an implicit understanding that Jeff feels he has something to prove throughout the film. In apprehending Thorwald and piecing together the murder of Mrs. Thorwald, he can re-affirm his masculinity. Even when Lisa suggests that she can sneak into Thorwald’s, Jeff is anxious about the idea. In the film’s finale, the showdown between Thorwald and Jeff, the audience sees the struggle between two men who face similar problems of emasculation. In using his wits and struggling with Thorwald in a physically weakened state, but still managing to bring him to justice even at the expense of his own life, Jeff’s masculinity is unquestionable.
Finally, and perhaps most important to the film is the understanding of domesticity and the married life as undesirable. Jeff’s hesitance to marry even a beautiful well-off woman, once again threatening his masculinity, is illustrated in what he as well as the audience sees in the windows of his neighbors. One example is the couple that moves in at the film’s beginning. The audience is shown the thrill of the new marriage, but over the course of the film, moviegoers are forced to watch as the relationship disintegrates. Eventually, the wife stops being shown all together and all that can be seen is the husband’s unhappiness as his wife nags at him offscreen. The more visceral example is Thorwald’s relationship with his own wife. As a bedridden woman, her husband is forced to care for her, once again stripping him off his role as masculine working man. The audience sees Thorwald’s descent as the institution of marriage itself along with his wife, leads him to murder her. With such examples as these as Jeff’s role models for marriage, it’s easy to understand why he would avoid marrying Lisa.
The film Rear Window has been the subject of study since its original release. While the obvious theme of voyeurism is a crucial element in the film, the issues of gender dynamics, the male gaze, masculinity and the lack thereof, as well as marriage as misery, are also important to the success of the film. While some of these themes are clearly stated in the dialogue of the film, others are left up to the viewer’s eye. Through visual clues, the importance of gender in the film Rear Window is elevated. The audience sees what Jeff sees, a world for men slowly being overtaken by women. By the film’s end, the gender roles of the time period are re-instated and Hitchcock would have audiences believe that everything was back to normal.

... Didn't I Just Watch This?

I'm a big TV person. Well, it's not like it controls my life or anything, but I like to watch something as I fall asleep or even just on in the background as I do my work. Oddly enough, this morning is the exception as I opted to listen to the thunderstorm outside my window, but that's another story. Lately, I've been on a Scrubs kick. It's an entertaining enough show, but more importantly, it's just about the perfect filler noise. There's the occasional musical interlude or cutaway, but nothing too distracting. Well, with the exception of one thing...

Whenever I hear the theme song, at the beginning and the end of each episode, I always have to watch just for that. I don't know what it is, because it certainly never really changes, but I do it anyway. In some seasons, the openings longer, in others, it's just a brief 15 seconds maybe. One thing remains the same though, and that is the end credits.

Now, this may sound ridiculous to some folks, but I feel compelled to watch the end credits even though if I had to pick one thing that annoyed me most about Scrubs is the end credits. Let me explain, I can watch the show in the background now because I've watched it before and many times at that, right? Then the end credits roll around and what are they? They're simple stills from the episode that just aired.

Do we live in an era where attention spans are so gnat-like that people need to be reminded within 15 minutes, what they just watched? Don't answer that. the sad truth is, I'm sure we do. It's nothing new, but that doesn't mean I can't be disappointed. The fact of the matter is, of one of my many high functioning neuroses, the whole hatred of condescension thing is at the top of my list. When I see those same still images that I saw less than 20 minutes ago, as crazy as it may sound, I interrupt it as TV execs thinking I'm too stupid to remember what I just watched. I don't expect it to make sense, but let me see if I can put it another way for some folks. have you ever watched a sitcom that was ruined by the laugh track? Just as much as it is unnatural and awkward in the reality of the sitcom world, isn't it the least bit frustrating to be told what is supposed to make you laugh? I'm just saying, I'll laugh at what I choose to find funny, thank you very much.

The way that the laugh tracks angries up my blood is a story for a different day. Today's hatred is directed at those end credits that are like, "Hey, remember? Yeah, you laughed at this... and then this happened... and then this happened..." It honestly gets so extensive, I could probably tell you the whole plot of the episode by watching the end credits alone. Just cut out the middle man, don't bother watching the show, and just get the quick synopsis from the end credits. is that what you want TV?!? Huh?!? Is it?!?