On Sucker Punch, Women, and Storytelling

 

A movie not about them, but you

Sucker Punch is not Inception. Zack Snyder is not trying to be Nolan. And with those two thoughts out of the way, let’s continue.

I’ll admit this—I was very reluctant to see this movie. As a woman, as a girl-geek—and a proud one at that—I was not thrilled by the trailers. The trailers pitched this movie to me, time and time, again as a fetishy, male-geek mashup of stuff I might otherwise enjoy if it weren’t for the shameless portrayal of women as oogling candy. A male friend and I argued back and forth over this—with him claiming the movie was about “female empowerment,” and me determined to prove him otherwise mostly by refusing to see the movie in protest. However, social circles and numbers with their powers combined dragged me along to see the movie Saturday night. Like many other critics, geeks, moviegoers, and everyone else here are my thoughts.

**Caution: Heavy Spoilers Ahead**

Sucker Punch is not Inception. Zack Snyder is not trying to be Nolan. Snyder takes visual aesthetic and a CGI budget to give us a movie about dreams as…dreams. Those things that occur during specific sleep cycles, which you might or might not remember upon waking. Those things you drop into during particularly boring classes when you want to be anywhere but there. For the most part, there’s zil to none metaphorical meaning to dreams, unless you believe in that kind of stuff. But dreams are a subconscious means of processing and understanding the world around us—or so we’re told.

Dreams are disorienting in film. Movies present a certain brand of irony where what we view on screen is supposed to be our perception of “reality.” “Reality,” here, is the world of the film, the settings and the characters, the story, etc. Long story short—when our perceived reality goes bonkers, so do we. Sucker Punch, in this regard, has more in common with Black Swan, which is about one woman’s perception of reality breaking down around her and carrying us with it.

For a dream to work in a movie, it has to process reality as much as escape it. Hence, the layering we see in Sucker Punch. The “reality” of the movie is a cold, cruel, early-20th century looking place. A girl is (supposedly) wrongfully imprisoned by a (definitely) wicked stepfather in a mental institution where he bribes a guy to forge the proper signatures to authorize a rush-order lobotomy. We don’t know much about the girl, BabyDoll, because she has very few lines in the movie a la videogame avatars. Is she actually insane?

The question is left purposefully unanswered as BabyDoll shows us her first dream. Against the backdrop of the asylum, BabyDoll shows us an alternate reality that’s a little more black and white: a brothel known as The Theater. The girls are all prisoners to a cruel owner, and made exotic dancers and prostitutes for the pleasure of rich, corrupt, bad men. Instead of under the table exchanges of cash for misdiagnoses, BabyDoll’s virginity is auctioned off to the highest bidder (the High Roller).

Unfortunately, this is the first train stop for anyone angered, upset, or outright lost by the movie to disembark.

Yes, it’s not an improved situation, but hey—ain’t it now easier to draw the lines of good and evil? The movie doesn’t really help by choosing to spend most of its time on this level. The stupider arguments I’ve come across have already forgotten the purpose of dreams/daydreaming. Life sucks, how do I understand it so I can get away from it?

Enter the second dream level, and the furthest point from reality. It is here Snyder unleashes a cosmic mashup of pure, geek gold. Second disembarking point. Face it, anyone who otherwise sneers, glares, boos, hisses, derides, and dismisses any element on this plane isn’t going to enjoy anything from this point on because that would be recognizing that someone who has the resources to make a movie actually finds use in geek material outside of a moneymaking gold mine. Here, if you enjoy any combination of comics, videogames, sci-fi, fantasy, anime, robots, distant planets, mechas, and more you’re going to pause whatever else you might think of Sucker Punch to enjoy the moment. Because it is glorious. It is this level of dreamscape where BabyDoll concocts a “just crazy enough to work” plan to help her and four new friends escape the Theater, also known as “processing point for an asylum full of girls who might or might not be insane.” Please keep in mind the real-reality, while not presented to us, is still in here somewhere.

Battle lines and trenches have been drawn over whether or not the movie is “female empowerment.” Because much of the screen time is spent within The Theater dream, punctuated by the fantastical action scenes, naysayers argue the girls’ time as skimpy-dressed prostitutes (living in the brothel) and skimpier-dressed action heroines is too much eye candy to anything but pandering to a male, geeky audience, and how ashamed we should all be for saying anything positive about the movie, etc, etc…

Here’s the problem with that argument: this is about a girl and her perceptions of reality. The Theater segments play too much with our ideas/beliefs of women and sexuality. BabyDoll envisions the brothel in order to create clear-cut lines out of a blurred and sticky situation (in addition, we still never find out if she’s actually insane). So…yeah, pretty sure prostitutes and dancers don’t normally dress like puritans, now do they? In this level, BabyDoll’s raw dancing abilities are too mesmerizing for words—but we never see her dance. She cuts away from sexual submission to a position of growth and power in the badass-action-heroine sequences. If you’re a badass, action heroine, you’re going to see yourself looking like one. Girls, who hasn’t imagined themselves looking like

The one con costume we all wish we looked good in

Sailor Moon? Or Wonder Woman? Voluntarily. To some yaysayers, this represents a portrayal of feminine empowerment, the likes of we rarely see in either geek culture or films in general.

And that’s…also kinda the problem.

The bulk of the movie takes place in the mind of a girl whose sanity is questionable, making her an extremely unreliable narrator. She only achieves some modicum of strength when she’s furthest removed from reality. Since it all takes place in her head, it’s all wiped away by the end. The dreamscapes are shown in the single, split-second remaining before the stake is driven through her brain. Several possible questions bounced around my head as the credits rolled…

1. So…women can be strong, but only in their minds?
2. Um…women have the potential for strength, they just choose not to tap into it in reality?
3. Women + Strength = Insanity? We can’t have that? Who’s “we” here?

Really guys?

At the end of the movie, as a woman, I was aggravated by this portrayal of “female empowerment,” because it wasn’t actually empowering. And it wasn’t about the costuming, or the stock characterization. The most Snyder could offer up for closure was Blue getting arrested for his crimes (forgery, bribes, etc.). It came across as an, “Oops. My bad,” more than anything. “Totally sorry about that whole mix-up back there with the lobotomy and all. Forgives?”

Um…no. No I don’t.

In an interview with Zack Snyder, he said his movie was targeted towards all those naughty nerds (male) who leer and cat-call “hot girls” be they real, or character designs (probably created for equally exploitative purposes). So Sucker Punch is basically a slap on the wrist for any geeky guy who’s leered at any girl. This makes sense. Of the two dreamscapes, the first is a black and white staging ground for the second, which is supposed to place men in the position/perspective of Blue, the Mayor, and the High Roller (i.e. bad men leering at scantily clad women forced to serve them). The two dreamscapes are literally telling the audience how men treat women like whores made to dance on command.

In hindsight, this summarizes my moviegoing experience—as a woman, I didn’t come out feeling “empowered” as much as feeling like a pawn in someone else’s game.

Snyder, and the critics who’ve positively received Sucker Punch for its supposed message, missed the mark on this one. That’s great that they all think it’s wrong for men to objectify women, and it’s a decent attempt at calling the geek culture out on its bullshit. But Sucker Punch does not empower women. Snyder is just as guilty of using women while he reprimands the other side of doing the same. He’s taking his work as a dialogue between himself and another group of men, while women are touted out as necessary. On an intellectual level, what is the point of women seeing the movie? Or being able to enjoy the movie? Or get anything out of it at all if it isn’t really about us (women) so much as a shadowy, generalized them (men)? At best, women are tossed a mangy, meatless bone while the two sides duke it out over our heads. Both sides are ironically accusing the other of being the exact same thing. What does this say about our men today? How do we approach this tentative subject of men and their sexuality?

Since the rampant, undeserved popularity of the Twilight Saga, women—girl geeks in particular—have been publically exposed for being between a rock and a hard place. The status of women, and female portrayal, in the geek culture is well documented, and coupled with the sad reality that the pool of material available for women/girls in this culture is very, very, very shallow and largely tainted. The subject of women in the geek culture is something of a touchy one, though there’s no shortage of bloggers, commentators, and general people willing to call the geek culture on its narrow portrayal of women. The conflict arises when you look at how male-dominated (thus male-oriented) the geek culture is. It’s going to be genuinely difficult to create a work made for women, but appealing to geeks (read: men). Joss Whedon is my go-to example of how to draw and walk the fine line in-between without being exclusive—his work is made for geeks (read: men), but relatable to women. See the difference?

Honestly, I think that’s about as good as it’s going to get in the geek culture until a woman can come along and bridge the troubled waters. For now, I strongly encourage male geeks to just drop the subject. I’ll take your support, and your admissions of guilt, but I don’t want your mangy, meatless bones. I’ve got a juicy steak behind me, a grill, and some seasoning. I think I can show you you’re doing it wrong.

I can’t say I enjoyed seeing the movie. I’ve enjoyed arguing about it so much more. Part of its purpose, to me, is creating a dialogue on a very long, overdue conversation. However, the process of opening the lines of communication leaves a lot to be desired, and I’ll touch on that before I go.

The Story

This is a big one. I don’t have as much a problem with the story’s concept as I do the way it’s executed. I don’t mind keeping the story simple as a means of laying a foundation for the bigger picture. As a viewer, I don’t even mind the use, reliance, and outright dependency on so many tropes (the writer in me is a different story).

However, the framing leaves a lot to be desired, and I believe it is one of the biggest reasons the story falls apart.

The story’s frame (the part in “reality”) doesn’t give you any reason, hope, or reason to hope BabyDoll’s lobotomy isn’t anything less than executed on schedule. I don’t know why this type of tragedy has seeped into 21st century storytelling, but it needs to G.T.F.O. Now. When a story is framed in this manner of tragedy, particularly with the absence of hope, then the person responsible for writing the story has given the audience absolutely no reason to care about anything that happens. It doesn’t matter if the medium is fiction, fantasy, or film—if the audience has no reason to care about the material, the writer has failed at their job.

Storytelling Rule #1. Give the audience a reason to care. I spent way too much time in the theater waiting for the movie to end in the same way I spend most of my workshop classes wondering why I have to read my classmates’ sob-stories from start to finish.

P.S. By relying on caricatures instead of characters, the writer is already making their ability to pass Rule #1 hard.

Along those lines, caricatures cannot be swapped out for a surprise twist in the last two minutes. Characters can. It’s a jarring experience to suddenly go, “Kidding! This is the real main character,” when we’re talking cardboard cutouts. It’s a worthy effort, but in order to work the story has to give the audience a reason to give a damn.

Second problem with the story. Though the story has potential, in my mind Snyder is at fault for bad writing. Bad writing is bad writing, and somewhere in the immense gap between the beautiful action scenes and storytelling is a large neon sign directing the audience to which one Snyder is more accomplished/comfortable. Personally, I think a little could’ve been shaved off the ends of the CGI budget to partner a decent writer with Snyder to ensure the storytelling supports everything the movie is trying to accomplish. Then again, I don’t know much about the process of making a movie from start to finish, so maybe not. But I believe one could adjust the framing of reality, and give the caricatures some substance, and it wouldn’t negatively impact what the movie’s trying to accomplish.

And finally, I direct this last bit at the audience. If you “don’t get it” or “don’t like it” simply because of the presence of elements pertaining to geek culture (sci-fi, fantasy, videogames, comics, etc.) please shut up right now. I have been around enough of my fiction-writing peers long enough to know that if this story took out the geek mashup dream sequence and replaced it with a second, purely fictional dream sequence, you wouldn’t have had a single problem with the movie. At all. In fact, I’d lay money on it being a blockbuster. Just because someone crafts a story where parts of it don’t pertain to you doesn’t automatically make it awful. Technically, the story falls perfectly within the realm of fiction. But the story does enough damage to itself without you branding it with your sorry-ass, “But-but-but there’s fantasy in it! The horror!” excuse.

Overall, the movie isn’t terrible. It’s certainly worth seeing someday if only because people are talking about it. It’s much more interesting to talk about than it is to sit through.

A Modern-Day Mecca

I submitted the following for my nonfiction assignment of the week, but I think it’s a nice contrast to me going on about more serious (to me) subjects.  At the very least, I needed the change of pace…

My sister wants to go to Comic-Con. The one who couldn’t sit through a single episode of Firefly, complained through all of Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, and doesn’t know the difference between Marvel and DC. But she wants to go to Comic-Con.

“Can you even name the Star Wars movies—in order?” I asked her between fits of laughter. What you’re about to hear may be extremely disturbing.

She stuttered and fumbled for a moment, then began, “The first one…the second one…Return of the Jedi—uh, something, the one with the Ewoks—um, Revenge of the Jedi. I don’t know. Like I’m supposed to know any of that!”

Now I’m obligated through family to love her and ignore the fact that my soul is bleeding through any of the offensive wounds above, but what really makes me facepalm is I can’t talk her out of this. I’ve tried. I’ve explained what to expect, and the kind of people who go to cons—even the really scary nerd stereotypes that you think you won’t see until you do and then you will never unsee, or unsmell. People with her interests go to California for places such as Beverly Hills. People like me go to California for Comic-Con.

In August of 2008, I almost didn’t go to Otakon. There was the question of travel—not only between Virginia and Maryland, but into Baltimore as well—and at the whopping age of 19 the most I could get out of my parents were the rights of someone 13—God forbid after having been away at college for an entire year I go somewhere where I might stay out past sunset. However, after having spent the summer not-finding a job in an economy making a turn for the worse and sitting around with nothing better to do, I managed to convince my parents to grant me some manner of fun.

But there I stood in the lesser heat of Maryland’s August. Facing the direct shade-less, concrete walls of the Baltimore Convention Center, I knew I’d been led into the Promised Land. Before, I was thrilled to learn there were even five people like me. By the end of a weekend I mingled with over 26,000.

Previously, conventions were something I’d only heard about on TV. It seemed to only be a trait of the West Coast far, far away. When I learned there was not only a convention on the East Coast, but it was also the largest anime convention on the East Coast—and relatively close to me—I didn’t want to not-go. I didn’t want the rooms big enough to land jumbo jets, the thousands of thousands of people, the merchandise, the games, the panels, and more to exist only in someone else’s description.

According to the Baltimore Business Journal, “In 2009, [Otakon] brought in $12.5 million in direct spending and drew 26,600 attendees, according to the city’s tourism office.” In 2010, Otakon raked in $15.3 million. The last three years have seen over 26,000 attendees, making it the largest anime convention on the East Coast, second largest anime convention overall, and the third largest convention in the United States behind Anime Expo and Comic-Con. Since moving to the Baltimore Convention Center 1999, it has been the city’s largest hosted convention.[i]

From 2007-2009, it was the single greatest source of revenue for the City of Baltimore—including the Ravens and Orioles.[ii] In the interests of professionalism I will not take time to be my usual self and say, “Suck it, sports fans.”

However, in 2008 all I saw was the line of people wrapping around the entire convention center—people outside much longer than my late-coming self. In 2009, I stood in that line before eight in the morning as it wrapped around the entire Convention Center twice (I stood in a not-as-climactic wiggle for 2010 while everyone who didn’t get their badges the night before wrapped around the Convention Center). I stood amongst the cosplay and even recognized some of the characters portrayed. People dressed as Ash and Misty still today? As I discovered, a few staples of the geek world are always required, including your Mario Parties.

That first year, the moment when I discovered the fabled Dealer’s Room, the one large enough to hold a jumbo jet, and saw the wall-to-wall rows of tables and tables of stuff, was the first moment in my life that I truly loved shopping in the same manner as every other girl. The next year, I played it smarter and made a list.

Maybe Otakon is the Promised Land, but every good geek knows Comic-Con is something greater. If not Heaven on Earth, then at least the Mecca, Canterbury, Jerusalem, and the final resting place of a very large Holy Grail. For someone like me to travel to Comic-Con must be akin to a mountaineer scaling Everest—compare the brutality of climbing Everest to the financial costs of investing in a trip to Comic-Con. I could go to Vegas and spend less, let’s put it that way.

Like anyone protective of their holy relics, my sister’s unconventional declaration raised as much shock as it did outright cackles of ridiculousness. Geeks have but so few places to go safe from the forced swirlies and locker-stuffings of the rest of the world. I mean, I’d heard rising complaints through the internet that Comic-Con was bringing in more and more Others—but if the people that snub and dismiss you the other 360-something days of the year suddenly want to hang out in the same place, would you be all “with arms wide open?” I bet you’d be thinking, “It’s a trap!” too. Sure, the 2000s have been the Decade of the Geek with the advent of mainstream hits such as Lord of the Rings, Batman Begins, the Dark Knight, Iron Man/2, and plenty of things in-between and after previously associated with us, and considered only appropriate for us. Hollywood discovered the bank mu-lah to be made if you produce the material right—instead of textual complexity, make it visually engaging, or summarize decades of dense continuity with singular Box Office home runs—and the walls have been chipped at ever since.

I can only imagine the occurring shitstorm over the year Comic-Con first hosted Twilight stuff. Think about it, the entire science-fiction/fantasy genre is forced to wear that scarlet letter—but I’m sure fiction’s got plenty of equally unglamorous, fiber-less, dinosaur craps it doesn’t have to account for.

Thankfully, that’s not why my sister’s interested. While Comic-Con’s known for hosting guests and panels related to popular TV shows, Big Bang Theory is almost a complete crossover between the geek world and the rest of the world. If anything, it’s re-popularized how okay it is to laugh at the pale, socially awkward, nerd stereotype making up a very, very, very large percent of any convention’s population. As much as I want to go to Comic-Con, I do not want to babysit my sister in my idea of paradise when she (1) realizes that “Sheldon Cooper” isn’t going to whisk her off into the sunset, and (2) discovers she’s an attractive young woman in a convention center full of thousands of “Sheldon and the gang” equivalents, and (by the time Comic-Con comes around) she’ll longer have protection afforded by the term “jailbait.”

While the above begins to resemble a sitcom episode, the big reason is this: Comic-Con is five times the size of Otakon. From 2006 on the San Diego Convention Center has been privy to crowding issues, and seen years where it’s been completely sold out—complete with scalping. Over 130,000 people attended in 2010. According to the North County Times in San Diego, Comic-Con 2011’s Wednesday Night Preview sold out of its 15,000 passes two hours before the 2010 convention ended. Overshadowing Otakon’s $15.3 million revenue in 2010, Comic-Con contributed $163 million to San Diego.[iii] What began as a small expo where a few hundred comic fans showed off their collections in the 70s has grown to be the—and the largest—convention in the United States.[iv] So yeah, as the mature sibling I’m a little concerned about sending my sister across the country to something she might or might not (coughmostlikelycough) be able to enjoy

During one episode of Big Bang Theory, after spending an entire summer in the North Pole on a special, highly classified government-assigned physics study Sheldon laments, “And I missed Comic-Con.”

---

[i] Bernstein, Rachel. “Otakon and soccer mean big business for Baltimore Read more: Otakon and soccer mean big business for Baltimore | Baltimore Business Journal .” Baltimore Business Journal 30 July 2010: n. pag. Web. 9 Mar 2011. <http://www.bizjournals.com/baltimore/stories/2010/07/26/daily43.html?page=1&gt;.

Proctor, Carolyn M. “Room to Grow.” Baltimore Business Journal 10 Dec. 2010: n. pag. Web. 9 Mar 2011. <http://www.bizjournals.com/baltimore/print-edition/2010/12/10/room-to-grow.html&gt;.

[ii] Same as “i”

[iii] Wolff, Eric. “REGION: Comic-Con sells out 2011 Preview Night before Con ends.” North County Times 26 July 2010: n. pag. Web. 9 Mar 2011. <http://www.nctimes.com/business/article_0dd24a8a-a75d-53ae-a16e-3c0c244d5e0c.html&gt;.

[iv] Rowe, Peter. “Invasion of the Comic Fanatics.” San Diego Union-Tribune 16 July 2006: n. pag. Web. 9 Mar 2011. <http://www.signonsandiego.com/uniontrib/20060716/news_1n16comicon.html&gt;.

Constructive Crossover

I really need to find something geeky to geek out about, other than how bad I am at MvC3…

I am taking two courses this semester with opposing schools of thought.  One is  a seminar focused on examining images pertaining to the male character across literature and media.  The other is the women and comedy course I mentioned before.  They both meet on the same day, and it’s typically been a head-trip going from one to the other—because one looks objectively at men in society, and the other is prone to hating on men in society.

Last week, I had perhaps the single best classroom experience in my entire college career, and it was awesome.

The day began with me actually excited to have something relevant to say in the man-class.  You see, the day before I overheard on one of the local radio talk shows a call-in discussion pertaining to a man.  This man called in with a question of manhood—his sister-in-law was(and probably is still) giving him crap about “not being a man.”  He’s called “not a man” because he’s married, his wife works, she makes bank $$, no kids, they have a cleaning lady, and he does not work.  He does the occasional odd-job, but he doesn’t have a 9-5, or any other aspirations for a career.  He doesn’t play videogames, and orders basketball tickets since it’s the season and lots of men do that.  So the hosts posed the question through the station—

Is he a man?

Every single woman who called in just about cremated this guy.  They accused him of sitting around playing videogames all day, of being a freeloader, of stealing all his wife’s money, of being lazy, and “not being a man.”  BUT, these same women also admitted that if the genders were reversed, it would not only be okay, but acceptable for the situation to remain as it is.

“[They] don’t do it, no [they] work for [their] money, but it’s okay for a woman to be more/less kept by a husband, or even boyfriend.”

Now marriage is even chucked out the window!  These women fiercely argued that this man, if he wanted to “be a man,” should find a job and “support” (yes, that card was played) his wife, even if he doesn’t make as much.

I posed this story to the man-class, and we had a good discussion about the whole “breadwinner” concept and how it pertains here.  But moving right along…

That afternoon in the women-class we discussed the intersections between Emma, Barbara Pym’s Excellent Women, and the recent episode of 30 Rock where Tina Fey’s character tries being a spinster.  The teacher pointed out that “spinster” isn’t a term readily used anymore, and the topic revolved around the idea of women being single—particularly older women remaining single.  What are our perceptions of spinsters?  We went through the range of stereotypes (lonely, unhappy, somehow unable to land a man…etc).

Finally, the topic drifted to other women.  I pointed out that in the 30 Rock episode, it’s Liz’s female friend who rallies against the idea of Liz being okay, or even *gasp* happy, with being single, and that most pressures for today’s women come from other women.  (Today was a rare day for volunteering)

The good question/discussion came out from this point: n the 21st century, does a woman need a man?  What is the modern relationship between women and romance?  Along those lines, why are women still wrestling with the exact same thematic material of a book (Emma) written going on two centuries ago?  Is the idea of a woman being single and happy in some way threatening to other women?  These are questions we didn’t really come to a good, concluding answer on.

Look back to the couple above.  During the course of the segment the husband stated, several times, that him and his wife are happy with their situation—and frankly I think that’s as far as should be anyone’s business.  Does the wife in this relationship sound like she really needs to be supported?

In contrast, a woman who (either in real life or in books/movies/shows) supports herself without a romantic relationship, or marriage, is privy to scrutiny by other women—with the running stereotypes being alone, unhappy, desperate for companionship, and little-to-no money.  Side effects include being prone friends’ supposedly constructive meddling.

Compare this to the statements of the women callers, who plainly stated it’s acceptable for a woman to be completely kept by a man.  Boyfriend or husband, a man still needs to be somewhere in the picture of a primary supporting role. The focus of the radio show was the man, of course, but I’ll admit to being more fascinated by the outright, admitted, hypocrisy of the women—and painfully, painfully aggravated.

i can has?

I have to admit, I’m confused.  The women who called into the radio were very territorial over “their money,” and that collectively a man should not have anything to do with “their money.”  But if a man is supposed to be supporting you, what are you honestly doing with that money?  If you, as a woman making money, still need or want a man to support you in order to be “the man” in the relationship, what is he doing with his money?  Is yours hoarded away like a dragon’s cave?  Do you burn that extra on clothes, shoes, bags for every season?  I’m only asking because none of them suggested, inferred, implied, or stated that this male to female form of “support” is evenly distributed.  It’s one thing if you’re splitting rent money, or utilities—it’s another if “the man” has to pay for those completely because that’s his role in your life, and then you turn around wielding the phrase, “No man is touching my money.”

I understand there’s equally damaging assumptions to both sides of the equation, but for now I’m focusing on the women.  If I remember the song correctly…

“Ladies, it ain’t easy being independent.”

P.S.

If there was an episode to sell me on watching 30 Rock, that wasn’t it.  I don’t buy the concept that there’s only two forms of existence for women: single and unhappy, or involved (in any of its mono, poly, fwb, open, engaged, or married forms) and happy.  No matter how much humor you incorporate.

In addition, I have yet to be sold on the idea that the episode was constructed to parody that notion.

Riddle Me This, Riddle Me That

Leia here, taking a slight break from reading entire assigned books (yes, plural) over a weekend, and writing papers otherwise too big for their own good.

So this semester I’m in a class about women and comedy.  It (and for the most part the other girls) has a decisively feminist slant, to the point where I honestly wish we’d sidetrack for a day and talk about what feminism actually means so we’re all 1) on the same page, and 2) to cool down some of the subtle man-hating.

Hollywood: our unspoken expert on what women want.

We just finished a unit on Jane Austen’s Emma, where we also watched Clueless.  In addition, this article was assigned and the teacher posed the question, “Why does Ferris argue that Clueless, despite its contemporary setting, is more conservative?”

Around the room, girls volunteered answers, mostly quoting clips from the article. After about half the class tried answering–these feminism-arguing girls–I finally spoke up, stating what seemed really obvious to me.  Now, I’m not the most vocally extroverted person, I don’t like speaking in class (more of a listener).  It’s one of those things I do only if I feel there’s a point to be made that’s sorely missed, or if I’m really passionate about the day’s subject.

So it was after the teacher had gone around the room that I finally decided to speak.  “It’s a romantic comedy.  Most, if not all romantic comedies are about women getting men–the main character of Clueless actively wants to have a man.  Emma, by comparison, wanted to maintain her independence for most of the novel.”  Bulls-eye.  It’s honestly why I can’t ever get interested in most rom-coms, and why there’s only two Disney movies that I tolerate.

I'll give you a hint: this is one.

Now why, in class where all but maybe 5 people are female–and most of those supposedly feminist–did it take so long for us to arrive at that?

There’s an irony here that’s perhaps more facepalm to me than funny.

Undaunted

I confess: I possessed Two Reasons for watching the Super Bowl.  I don’t even like football–never really understood the appeal, particularly this year when two such generic, well-known teams with consistently champion-ish records are competing for a title I feel we’ve all seem them go at again, and again, and again.  Give someone else a chance much?

So I sat it out and waited patiently for every commercial cut hoping to glimpse two teaser-trailers continuing the decade-strong film tradition of Revenge of the Nerds.  It’s iconic stuff for us.

It's even in their tagline: "When the heroes are in trouble..."

But I can’t help but look at this lineup and sigh…Girls Need Role Models Too.  In my geek of geeks heart, sooner or later someone (as in someone with some kind of magical Hollywood influence) really needs to make something that bleaches Twilight from our minds.  I understand that the shadowy men in charge are kinda aged, kinda old-school, and kinda have this idea of exactly what women want in a movie (which might or might not be off), but every once in a while please give the female species something that passes The Bechdel Test.

Before we all dive to conclusions, I don’t consider myself a feminist.  The feminists I’ve encountered in my time like to spout “men oppressed us this,” and “men ignore us that,” and “men don’t take us seriously,” and I believe that way back in the 20th century that kind of outcry possessed a greater validity.  But growing up at the turn of the century, I haven’t seen that as much.  I see it used as propaganda, but other than the tweens on Xbox Live the guys I know my age don’t really care what women do with their lives, so long as they get laid on occasion.

No, I’ve had problems with other women–girls, specifically.

I ended my errand run in the toy section again the other day, which is usually what happens when I go shopping at Target.  Now this sounds strange coming from a girl–unless the girl collects Barbie dolls or something–but I wasn’t in the Barbie aisle (And I don’t have kids).  No, I was looking at DC Universe toys–collectables.

I ultimately found a figurine of Black Canary so it wasn’t all bad.  There’s a point to this.  I tend to be formulaic about the toys I ogle: DC Universe, LEGOs, and Nerf in varying order.  And I’ve never strayed over to aisles decorated in that bright shade of bubblegum pink, the land of Barbie, and My Little Pony, and other things, except once when I showed a friend the point I’m about to elaborate on.

I see it in commercials, especially around the holiday season.  I see it when I am errand-running in Target, or at a mall.  I see it in the coupons crammed into my mailbox with all the deals and potential savings on things I don’t need.  But I wonder…have you ever noticed how the girls’ side of the toy aisle often resembles the parents-to-be aisle?  There are toys that burp, and cry, and need someone to feed them!  Even potty-training toy dolls (creepiest thing I’ve ever seen).  There are miniature baby carriages, and small houses with kitchen sets.

Looking at this from the perspective of an adult, is this really supply of toys aimed at young girls? The tie to parenthood and/or domestic life, fashion and makeup, etc, appears to be a (very, very, very, very, very scary) common trend. Do all girls want nothing more in life than to be well-dressed mothers?  Growing up, I sure didn’t, but according to commercials, and looking at the actual toy aisles…yes.  And if the toy aisle isn’t enough, there’s always the ever-looming head of Disney.

But girls get the better show, am I right?

Meanwhile, toys for young boys feature Star Wars, or Hot Wheels, electronics, LEGOs, GI Joe, Batman, Halo, Iron Man, Tron and more.  I read somewhere, “You don’t see boys’ toys featuring suits and powerpoint slides.”  Boys can build things, drive cool cars/spaceships, fight alien races, become superheroes–you know: law enforcement, astronaut, architect, and so on.

(If you follow the commentary of this article…) Some have already commented that girls outgrow their childhood toys after a certain age.  But what about the amount of pressure on a girl to encourage, if not force, this process.  For example, not long after my eleventh birthday I remember being told by my parents to give up everything Pokémon—toys, games, TV show, etc—because I was “too old,” end of story.

Enter middle school and girls suddenly experiment with makeup and become picky about appearances.  The differentiation over the next few years is quick, brutal, and based on an unwritten set of standards for female appearances and behavior.  This unwritten code is then enforced—not so much by men as one may initially think—but by other women: on TV, in the movies, friends at school, older girls seen around school, characters in books.  Everywhere.  Reinforcement bombards across these different mediums.

Careful, that is but her dagger.

From personal experience, by high school anything Girls + Anything Geek has been slapped with the Big NO. First, because of the association with masculinity.  Second?  The above-mentioned list.  So is that it then?  Are girls only allowed to obsess over men?  Hormonally, socially, and culturally, life to a girl—according to this standard—is supposed to be about attracting men, loving men, and keeping a single man?

So…Do not enjoy male things.  Do not associate with other men beyond the realm of acquaintance.

Really?

In my case, resistance made the few girls I knew work to change me. To make me, “Better.”  “We’re just going to…edit…the things that aren’t right,” I was told.

I am not right, and I need to be made better.

Once, on a student trip between my junior and senior year, these same friends lectured me for wearing the Star Wars t-shirt I loved on my birthday as a personal celebration.  Later on the same trip I received a sterner reprimand for out-competing the other guys while a group of us goofed off on a playground.  I was pulled aside and everything, the words burned into memory “Boys don’t like it when girls perform better than them…it’s inappropriate to act so unladylike if you ever want to attract a man.”  All this coming from a girl a year older than me, and her tone suggested I committed the eighth deadly sin.

Though the unasked lessons never stuck,  the constant admonishment left me convinced I was forever unattractive to men, an image I still struggle with.

Add one to the list:  And do not—ever—compete with men at their level.

Is this where the Taylor Swifts and Twilight Sagas come into play.  As far as that material is concerned, your only focus (as a girl) and purpose in life is to remain the pure virgin until some man comes along.  No additional work required, if you’re beautiful enough, or angst from afar long enough, he’ll waltz over and sweep you away.

This year, we get The Green Hornet, Thor, Green Lantern, Captain America, and on the horizon are The Avengers, another Batman, Superman, and more.  Yeah, I know people aren’t entirely rejoicing over the new X-Men, or Spiderman, but if every superhero movie churned out pure diamond-studded gold, then there’d be no more jocks and cheerleaders terrorizing your high-school aged gender of choice.

But Girls Need Role Models Too.  They’re a little overdue.

It’s why I write.

Hello World

“Who died, and made you king of anything?”

–Sara Bareilles

Here now, I formally introduce The Undaunted Pen: a commentary, and (hopefully decent) analysis on things related to my writing processes (thoughts, opinions, observations, etc).  I’m starving for a different kind of discussion, one with actual discussion taking place, and since I can’t seem to find it in class I turn to the internet.  You know, being constructive and all that good stuff.

I want to write.  You know, with keyboard and computer screen?  But over the last couple of years I’ve built up a lot of angst, anger, and frustration with regards to writing discussions and critique.  Honestly, I expected better from my educational system than what I’ve received, and not just because of the amount of money it takes to keep me here.  I expected to learn about writing from my writing classes, to learn about finding my voice, and to build my skills around a style that I would be allowed to call my own.

I believed that what I write, and my interests within writing, don’t matter so long as the effort was there.  Well, the effort was there, but the interest as far as teachers are concerned, was not.

Not to say that all of my teachers were bad–I’ve had some very good ones–but the ones running the writing workshop courses have left me routinely with rage.

I want a creative writing teacher (outside of nonfiction) who embraces the world’s variety.  I want the kind of teacher who looks at my work and says, “I see what you’re doing, and here’s what we can do to make that happen.”

Instead, I’m accustomed to, “I see what you’re doing, and here’s what you can do to make it better for me.”

I expected better.  Something that would hold in the face of logic.

I’ve never seen a class defeat destroy its purpose, lose completely misplace its cause, and beat that dead mixture with a stick more than creative writing aka “fiction workshop.”  I understand that at some fundamental level fiction/literature, and fantasy/science fiction/mystery/horror/romance/etc are viewed on separate and unequal platforms that may never, ever intersect–and I was aware of this going into English to begin with–but I never expected the amount of resistance towards any deviation from the norm.

So far the message I’ve gotten is, “We embrace your creativity, as long as it fits our standards.”

Maybe my approach is wrong.  Maybe those in a fiction workshop to begin with are writing to the kind of people they expect to still be in a fiction workshop course at the advanced level–people who share their interests alone.  They’re reaching out to their audience because these kinds of courses provide them a sample, a test run.  And that’s fine, my problem has never been with my classmates, just the people running the class.

Call it what you like, but I’m searching for another way.