Not your daddy’s little girl

Julia Keller, of Chicago Tribune, wrote about the current crop of unpunished dragon ladies:

They’re not meek. They’re not mild. They do as they please and they don’t play well with others. They’re misfits with moxie. And unlike the powerful female characters of a previous generation, they’re not depicted as witches, shrews, hags, evil stepmothers or shriveled-up spinsters who eventually get their comeuppance.

[...]

The new breed of brash, audacious woman has pushed into literature as well. Lisbeth Salander, heroine of the best-selling mystery novel “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo,” by the late Stieg Larsson, published last month in paperback by Vintage, is “prickly and irksome” but somehow still alluring: “She was like a nagging itch, repellent and at the same time tempting,” the narrator notes. With her tattoos and her piercings and her heavy boots, she’s no debutante. Instead, she’s a brilliantly efficient investigator. Ditto for Darlene O’Hara in Peter De Jonge’s “Shadows Still Remain” (2009), a sassy woman who breaks rules and gets results.

To be sure, strong women characters have been around for centuries. Antigone was no slouch, and if you knew what was good for you, you didn’t mess with Lady Macbeth. But what’s new about the current pack of powerful females is that by and large they’re not punished for their bold, pushy ways. They get by with their brassiness. From the singer Pink to Jada Pinkett Smith — who plays a purposeful, principled nurse in the new cable series “Hawthorne” — such women aren’t forced to apologize for forthrightness and verve.

[...]

Nowadays, many female characters are both pugnacious and popular. Even with a smart mouth and comically poor housekeeping skills, Hunter’s character in “Saving Grace” is not exactly hard up for male companionship. She has a rich and varied social life. She’s a party girl, able to knock back a half-dozen Budweisers and fill up a trio of ashtrays in a single night, but somehow she’s on time for work the next morning. McCormack’s character in “In Plain Sight” is notoriously short-tempered and ill-mannered, but if you’re in trouble, you want her in your corner. And she’s dating a handsome pro athlete. In the current film “Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian,” Amy Adams portrays Amelia Earhart as bold, dauntless, daring — and sexually aggressive with Ben Stiller’s character. The self-confident Stephanie (Sandra Oh) in the 2004 film “Sideways” has no problem speaking her mind — or filling her dance card.

Why are such women showing up on our screens, pages and iPods? Tracking down a single tap root for a cultural shift is always tricky, but many of the works featuring powerful, alluring female characters — such as “Nurse Jackie” and “Saving Grace” — are created or produced by women.

Seeing that women are starting to show up in important places, the expectation may have become exceedingly high – you’re going to have to bake your cake and eat it too. Perhaps my expectation regarding the strong modern woman has been set at this level of success that it was particularly startling to see how Christine in Dragged Me To Hell was depicted in the film. It should be noted that these fierce women Keller spoke of already possessed some power to level the playing field within their context. When you have to climb your way up – keeping in mind the need to appear as a good and competent person like Christine did in the film – perhaps bulldozing wouldn’t be the preferred route. Being mindful of others’ feelings and strategic about when to speak up may still be the smart way towards movement, lateral or vertical. However, due to the increased exposure to loud and successful women, perhaps in time people would be more at ease with (rather than frightened by) women taking the bull by the horn. I know that part of my being able to work with strong willed women has to do with my attributing their tenacious manner to their personal characteristic (of a willful individual) rather than ‘taking it personally.’ Doing so may  prevent unnecessary ego injury or the imposing of moral compass, which people tend to fall into when dealing with these women. This is an up side of growing up with a strong willed woman – familiarity breeds content (or just specific competence)? Increased acceptance may eventually make the idea of ‘having it all’ less a fantasy for these women – until then, it may pose as another oppressive ideal that women feel they must live up to, being aggressive and successful, just like ‘that woman on TV.’

A modern woman dragged to hell

Alison Lohman in Drag Me To Hell

Drag Me To Hell (Raimi, 2009) opens this weekend as a counter-programming film to Disney/Pixar’s Up. For a horror film, especially considering the current crop of films in that genre, its PG-13 rating seemed a little suspect. How can a good horror film have anything less than a presumably envelop-pushing R-rating? What of violence and nudity that make up most of the genre? By the time our heroin, Christine Brown (Alison Lohman), engaged in her first battle with the woman who would be placing a curse upon her (Mrs. Ganush, played with ferocity and a sense of fun by Lorna Raver), it was clear that what the film may lack in nudity and gore, it made up for it in humour and over-the-top grossed out goobs.

To be sure, there was not much here in term of plot (as expected in the genre): Christine was a loan officer who, in an attempt to prove her worthiness to her boss, made a decision to shelf away compassion (or was it really guilt?) and deny an old gypsy woman of another chance to live out the rest of her life in comfort and dignity. As an act of vengeance against what she saw as a deliberate attempt to shame her, Mrs. Ganush, after an outrageously funny and suspenseful cat fight with Christine, placed a wretched curse upon her. Christine then met with a psychic, Rham Jas (Dileep Rao) who was not only knowledgeable of the curse but also knew of whom she should ask for help from – at a negotiated price of the cold cash variety. Much haunting ensued within the three days that Chrsitine had left to prevent having her soul dragged to hell by an invisible Lamia. Of course, there was also a twist ending (that we could see miles away, but it was deliciously satisfying, nevertheless), and its conclusion underlined a strong moral statement the film seemed to take a vested interest in.

The Raimi brothers knew how to imbue their picture with a sense of humour while remaining true to the traditions of the genre. This difficult balance – winking while running on adrenaline – played itself out not only with the way the picture was filmed (music, gags, cheesy lines and sound effects were in full force, intermittently interrupted by the still scenes and slow tracking shots) but also in our heroin, Christine. Women are one of horror’s favourite subjects – most of the genre could be argued to have been built on the strength of women’s thighs and other close-by regions.  If the central character happened to be of the female variety, she would be expected to have the audience’s sympathy at least by the end of the film. Our horrified heroin is often violated against in some manners, and she would often have the higher moral ground compared to our villain(ess). In Christine, the Raimi brothers threw in their best twist and most biting comment in the film yet.

Christine was very much a picture of a modern woman, a determined social climber who, on sheer will and smarts, had gone from a chubby pork queen of a farm girl to a candidate for an assistant manager at a bank, with a young and devoted professor of psychology as her boyfriend (his name, Clay, suggested a certain boring malleability though – Justin Long was perfectly cast for once). In her first fight with Mrs. Ganush, after locking down her car windows and watching the old woman flail seemingly helplessly against the glass, she yelped victoriously from inside the car: “I BEAT you!” She was eager for self-congratulations throughout the film – she wanted so badly to beat the odds that she would prematurely celebrate any inroads. There was a certain glee in her tenaciousness and willingness to go the necessary distance to survive. No doubt in her mind she was a worthwhile heroin who would overcome and rise above life obstacles. The events that unfolded would show her to not be completely in sync with what she would like to think of herself, however.

Farewell to Natasha Richardson, the woman we could’ve known

From Stephanie Zacharek (Salon):

[...]But when I watched a Richardson performance, I never found myself comparing her skills to those of her mother, unfavorably or otherwise. I would look at her face and marvel at how her mother’s face was now also alive in hers. Richardson resembled her mother even more than her sister, Joely, does (although of course the resemblance is there, too), and I always loved that sense of continuity and promise. Over the past few days, I found myself enraged to see that numerous celebrity gossip sites — I refuse to honor their existence by linking to them here — ran pictures of Redgrave as she arrived at the hospital to see her daughter: There’s a distinction to be made between covering a story that means something to people and intruding on a family’s private grief. But under any other circumstances, I’m happy to look at pictures of Redgrave. Now the child’s face lives on in the mother’s.

Ms. Zacharek talked about how some very gifted actors never get their due time in Hollywood because their peculiarity made it difficult for them to find suitable roles. This was unfortunately the case for Natasha Richardson; having seen none of her works, I could only infer from her relationship with Liam Neeson – whom I respect as an actor – and her attention to theatre despite coming from a cinema royal family that she was someone special. Hollywood is indeed unforgiving of failed dreams, but what of missed ones?

Popmatters’ 100 Essential Female Performances

The list here.

Second, I wanted to avoid the usual clichés, the performances that people expect to be on a list of “most important” female film performances—but several of those requisite turns actually are so good that they absolutely warrant a blip on every film lover’s radar. This list, then, can also function as a gentle reminder that there are some films and performances that should not be ignored (hint! hint!), no matter how well-known or popular.

So, while the overwhelming critical consensus might dictate that the buxom figure of Bette Davis’ Margot Channing be affixed to the mast of the “Best Actress” ship for her untouchable work in All About Eve, she is included here, instead, for a claws-out tour-de-force that merits more attention: Regina Giddens in The Little Foxes. My intention in a case such as that one is not to be a contrarian, but to highlight some of the excellent work that too often slips through the cracks; work that is equally important in understanding the role of women in film history. So while Vivien Leigh makes the list for her iconic Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind (and what list of unforgettable female characters can exist without Leigh’s inclusion?), it isn’t out of obligation, its because she deserves to be there for a performance that is so well-put together, it holds up nearly seventy years later.

I love reading lists in which the writer(s) take some time to explain the merit of the inclusion. This list is generally a pleasurable read, so don’t just skim through for recognizable name. There are some sketchy inclusions (Marisa Tomei for The Wrestler, really?), some interesting but head-scratching picks (to me? Margaret Hamilton as the Witch in the Wizard of Oz?), and some unforgivable omissions (Gong Li’s absence is seriously jarring). But what lists wouldn’t have some of those? So forget the complaints, here are a few notable things I love about this particular list:

• No ranking! I like the categories they are organized under, and each actor got  her own due attention. How very laterally thoughtful of them.
• It’s a great reminder that there are so many great female performances that often get swept under the rug in favour of some male acting chops. Really, can you get a much better dramedy performance than Giulietta Masina in Nights of Cabiria?
• They cheated with Wit! It’s technically a television miniseries, innit? Emma Thompson was breathtaking in it though. I don’t know why I love that they cheated with this particular performance? Sneaky, they are.
• Much love for the inclusion of Oksana Akinshina in the little seen Lilya 4-Ever. It’s this kind of small-but-not-forgotten attribute that makes this list a pleasure to go through. And of course, the tribute itself.
• A whole section dedicated to the great Liv Ullman, one of the notable faces intricately tied to Bergman cinema. And there’s also this little gem quoted in the piece: “What I learned from Ingmar is really is if you have a lily, as an actor, you don’t try to make that actor into a rose. You water the lily so it comes to its full bloom.” *heart*

Maybe we can generate a list of our own some time in the near future, when we get our act together. Heh.

Lunar New Year: 12 Asian Film Characters to Celebrate

Excluding Indians, of course, as they don’t celebrate Lunar New Year? To celebrate the Lunar New Year with those who … celebrate it, instead of looking at films from the East, we thought we’d look to the colourful film characters that we’ve seen instead. The list will only include notable characters (as opposed to performances or actors) of the following ethnicity:

Koreans, Mongolians, Nepalese, Bhutanese, Vietnamese, formerly the Japanese before 1873, Mainland China, Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan, Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, and Thailand.

(Wikipedia, I love you.)

Let’s get to it, shall we? In no particular order (list compiled by FLEA and Aurelle, based on what we have seen, which, unfortunately, was not everything).

Top row to bottom row:

Wong Fei Hung – Once upon a time in China (HK) / Lai Yiu-fai – Happy Together (HK)

He may not mean much to the North American audience, but Wong Fei Hung is a revered name in Asia, so much so that they made movies after movies based on his supposed legend. This would not be a complete list without the character that inspired legions of fans and made a household name of anyone who played him, most notably Jet Li. More than an ordinary film character, Wong was a folk hero, a doctor, and a martial artist rolled into one. I’d probably compare him to James Bond, without all the womanizing and the gadgets, though that would probably take away the appeal of Bond to the Western (more specifically, North American) culture. He’s the straight face hero who kicks a lot of arse, and looks better than you doing it. That’s important, I think. – Aurelle & FLEA

Lai Yiu Fai, on the other hand, is not as famous a name, even if the actor playing him (Tony Leung) is. This character is as different from Wong Fei Hung as one can be. First of all, he’s gay. Second of all, he cooks and knows nothing of martial arts. Third of all, he’s got a tumultuous affair with a dude who is, in effect, a self-destructive, indecisive playboy. He is no folk hero, but a complex, modern man facing the uncertain complexion of relationships as they are on the brink of structural changes, giving voice to the much maligned gay subculture in the East in the process as well. – Aurelle