Pride and Glory, Edward Norton, Colin Farrell, John Voight

Bechdel-Wallace test: fails, of course

I was talked into seeing this. A truly dreadful movie. Sure, artily shot, good performances, nice attention paid to interiors, actual Spanish-speaking Latino actors, etc etc, and I went because Ed Norton was in it. But didn't realise till I got to the theatre that it was one of these Irish-cop-family-New-York-corruption-in-the-police-force-will-our-hero-choose-family-or-justice crapfests, I mean, let's just phone the plot in from here shall we?

Oh, and there were a couple of women in it. One was Jennifer Ehle, head shaved, playing the Madonna Wife and Mother Dying of Cancer. Does she matter at all? Of course not; her function is solely to put extra pressure on one of the good guys (protagonist's brother, her husband).

And then there's the pretty-wife-with-corrupt-husband-who-loves-her so we're supposed to believe he's actually a not entirely bad guy. He's doing it all For Her And The Kids, you see. Not that he's asked them if they WANT him to be, you know, dealing drugs and killing people For Them. Still, we're supposed to believe that anyone who loves his family can't be an all bad guy. To which one might well respond "don't even evil men love their children?" It's not a sign of virtue. It doesn't make him likeable or even interesting.

As a rule of thumb: movies about Irish cops in corrupt New York police departments are not going to be about women. Women will be used only to bolster the pretense that the male protagonists have ever had a relationship that mattered with anyone but other men. In this film, there are no relationships that matter, except relations between, and with, men. A typical Hollywood cop movie, in short.

Is there a single scene where two women talk to each other about something other than a man?

Yeah right. That is to say, of course not.

IMDB entry:

Godzilla

I just watched the 1998 Godzilla with the kids. I am now torn between a desire to never think about the movie again - how could they saddle Jean Reno with such lousy lines? - and a desire to write fanfic in which the lady paleontologist gets the cute scientist, instead of the brainless bimbo blonde babe who ditched him 8 years ago without even a courtesy phone call, after 4 years together and a marriage proposal which I gather she skipped town rather than bother to answer, and betrays him within seconds of meeting him again, while whining, blinking her big round blue eyes (her only discernible facial expression) and I swear, twisting her ankle and falling while GODZILLA is after them. I mean GODZILLA - who writes this crap? I really want to know who got paid for it, and I hope they donated it to charity and are doing penance now.

The paleontologist was, one gathers, disqualified from nailing the cute scientist only because a) she had a big nose and b) she was willing to come straight out and say she thought he was cute, but obviously straightforwardness or honesty were not pluses in this guy's book. Or maybe we're supposed to grasp automatically that women with long noses aren't supposed to come on to people. Because, I mean, PLEASE, aren't they supposed to just automatically know that if you have a long nose it doesn't matter if you're brilliant, hard-working, and a person of good character - being a cute blonde bimbo is just naturally going to trump all that?

I am dissuaded from writing the fanfic though because frankly the paleontologist deserves better than Matthew Broderick. Though it's fairly clear that even Matt Broderick's wimpy character is going to dump the bimbo by tomorrow morning, possibly after a post-Godzilla boink or three. Leaving her something else to widen her big round blue eyes in distress over.

I am really not surprised that that actress, whoever she was, has not been seen in a big-screen film since.

Joss and the Bechdel Measure

I just got my nine-year-old daughter to watch Joss Whedon's Equality Now award acceptance speech. We were talking about why she hadn't wanted to watch "Meet the Robinsons", which was actually pretty good, but why she and the friends who were sleeping over had preferred to watch "Legally Blonde", which is so-so but she loves it. And I had just run - again - across the "Bechdel Measure", which we were applying to kid's films. To pass the "Bechdel Measure" a film must have

1. At least two women in it
2. Who talk to each other
3. About something other than a man.

And if you think it's hard to find films for grown ups that pass that test, try kid's films! Just to mention kid's films I really enjoyed:

• Toy Story
• Toy Story 2 - well, unless you count the dance between the little cowgirl doll and her female owner, until the female owner grew up, discovered boys, and put the little doll out in the recycling ...
• Monsters Inc - and I loved this film!
• Meet the Robinsons - which I just rented last night and quite enjoyed
• Finding Nemo - Mom gratuitously killed in the first 30 seconds; whole film is about a boy and his dad, and every helper figure he meets is also male, with the sole exception of Dory, a substitute mom-figure. Who never talks to or indeed meets another female...
• Happy Feet - buddy story, 3 guys, a couple of girl penguins sure but they never talk to each other, one is a mom and one is a girlfriend for the lead penguin
• Star Wars, all six parts - and the last 3 don't even have a pretense of a strong female character ...
• Any Miyazaki movie - in strong contrast to the above, they all seem to think that what female character do matters! Even when there aren't any boys in the room! As frequently happens! No wonder my daughter likes them. No wonder I do. And my son does too.

Most of these films don't even have 2 female characters. So by those standards "Legally Blonde" may be a so-so film but it's way ahead on the Bechdel Scale.
I want to start a "Bechdel measure" category on IMDB.
But meanwhile, and to come back to Joss: no wonder we love him. We're actually in his stories. Everything he does passes the Bechdel Measure. So I can't wait to dig out my Buffy disks to start watching them again once this reno is finally done - with my daughter this time.
In the meantime she wants to start fundraising to send athletic equipment to girls in Afghanistan. Well, I suggested doing something like that. But I'm happy to help her out with it. Obviously. And maybe adding Bechdel Measure Ratings to the IMDB listings.

Related articles

• The Avengers Didn't Pass the Bechdel Test. Oh well!

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$27 + drinks and popcorn that i'm not going to have to waste

Seinfeld regenders an entire species

Because, you know, you can't admit that pretty much ALL the work in a hive is done by the female bees. That would emasculate the 6 year olds watching the movie?

Or, wait, it would only emasculate the MALE 6 year olds, which would only be half of ... right, right, but they're the half that COUNTS. The opinions of the little ovary-bearers doesn't matter. I always forget.

Apparently telling the little boys the truth about the bees would emasculate them - so let's by all means lie to keep them happy. Because even the tiny little male egos of 6 year olds aren't equipped to handle the truth. And as for the girls in the audience - well, it's not like they matter but if they did, how is there a downside to telling that in the entire universe, girls are never anything but mommies and sex toys? That's the lie that Made Our Culture Great.

Well, fuck, when did I ever think Jerry Seinfeld was anything approaching a feminist. And at least I now know not to waste money on this dog even as a renter.

Pandagon cites the "Bechdel Movie Measure" which I love and had not thought to apply to children's movies, but I certainly should. No movie passes the Bechdel Movie Measure does not do the following three things:

1. There must be at least two women in the film
   
2. Who talk TO EACH OTHER
   
3. About something other than a man.

Seems simple enough. Now try to think of a kid's movie (substitute "male/female" for "man/woman") that passes that rule.

Keep thinking ...

incredible concert

If you ever have a chance to hear the "Ensemble Clement Janequin", with Dominique Visse, director and countertenor, go! It was amazing. Five guys sing, and one accompanies with lute or guitar, and they can do absolutely anything with their voices; renaissance French repertoire, everything across the whole range. Though they all have excellent voices, Dominique Visse' is simply magical. And they were enjoying themselves so much! And the net effect was incredible. I mean, I am incoherent and babbling with praise. I nearly wept.

Here's a sample from the Harmonia Mundi website: La Chasse (mp3)

The lute player is no slouch either, I should add.

The whole audience leaped to their feet in an instant standing ovation immediately after they were done; I've never seen an early music audience do that.

Never read Coupland while jetlagged

I am at my parents' house, at 1:30 a.m., wide awake. I bought a Douglas Coupland novel, Eleanor Rigby for the plane trip. When I got here I finished it. And now I'm lying here in my parents' house, wide awake. At least, I was until I gave up on sleep and got up.

It is a good novel. So are all Coupland's novels. And like all of Coupland's novels that I've read so far, it's very disturbing to me, because his protagonists (why are they so often compellingly middle-aged women?) are so much like me. And he asks, they ask, so many of the same questions I do, and he leaves his protagonists in exactly the state of spiritual doubt and hope I live in whenever I can't persuade myself not to think about it. And he does it so pointedly. So precisely. So painfully. So even though his protagonists do come to some accommodation at the end, he makes it clear that their accommodation with reality is,well, profoundly personal and individual. That we all have to make our own agreements and accommodations with the universe, and it's going to depend very much on who we are. Some of them come out with faith. Some don't. He never tells us who's right.

These are not exactly religious novels at all, because they don't claim to have the answer; far from it. But they are not atheist novels; they are profoundly spiritual; because his novels persistently ask the questions; does God exist? does God care about us? If there is anything more what is it? Does life mean anything at all? He doesn't give us the answers. But the questions are central to every character, sooner or later, one way or another. If Coupland believes anything, it is that an unexamined life is not worth living; even though there's no key to the examination, giving us the answers at the end.

Eleanor Rigby hit me particularly hard because in this novel Coupland also deals with questions of mortality, which I worry about a lot, pointlessly, and because the central character, the narrator, Liz Dunn, is grindingly, horribly lonely. And I know about that. The feeling that there is no connection, not just between me and anyone, but between one moment and the next, there are great yawning gaps that one must somehow vault while trying not to look into the gaping void between the seconds. I haven't felt like that since I met my husband. But I remember it vividly.

But I vastly prefer Coupland to Nick Hornby, because while they ask they same sort of questions, I get the distinct impression that Hornby is fundamentally a nihilist - there really IS nothing out there, and all search for meaning is fundamentally pointless because there isn't one, period. A conclusion that would drive me back to drinking, for a start. Where Coupland seems pretty certain that it all does mean something; there is something out there, and there is a point to life while we're here; even though he, and his characters, aren't sure precisely what it is. Reading Hornby leaves me deeply depressed; so much so that I don't think I'll ever read anything of his again. Reading Coupland leaves me profoundly unsettled, because he insists on poking at questions that scare me to think about and then leaves me thinking about them. But he leaves me cautiously hopeful, too.

Still, I'm going to retire to bed with a well-worn Regency Romance, with which my mother's house is plentifully supplied, and a Janet Evanovitch novel, a vice I did not know my mother had fallen into, and hope that a half hour spent in contemplation of the loves of wealthy, upper-class, and/or extremely good-looking people will put me more in the mood for sleep. :)

Warner Brothers refusing scripts with women as leads

This is just in: Robinoff, head of Warner Brothers, refusing to make movies with women as leads.

Apparently he blames the less-than-stellar box office of the latest Jodi Foster and Nicole Kidman films (The Brave One and The Invasion, respectively) on the fact that the leads had breasts. So he doesn't even want to see scripts with women as leads anymore. No more chicks! They're bad for business!

And all I have to say is, of course! OMG! How could he have been so STUPID as to make movies with chicks in important roles? Of COURSE it's all their fault! Nobody minds seeing people with breasts in a subordinate position, preferably unclothed of course, in a non-speaking part (well, they can coo "John! be careful!" as Our Hero goes out to stomp the bad guys.) But actually give them a speaking part? A story line? Make them the center of the story? Well who would want to see uppity women mouthing off and acting as if they actually matter? What a money-loser!

Or maybe, you know, he could have tried making GOOD movies with women in lead roles. And then people would, you know, go see them.

I mean, God knows there are all kinds of lousy movies with males in lead roles, that nobody goes to see. But do you see Robinoff saying "no more movies with male leads?" Of course you don't.

I say, if this story is confirmed, I'm not going to or renting any more movies Warner Bros. makes, until its misogynist CEO recants or gets canned. One can hope.