Women's writing

I've noticed just recently that, subconsciously, many of my film reviews on here have paid special attention to the presentation of women within the reviewed work. This has evolved quite naturally, and wasn't at the front of my mind when I started writing this blog. I hate the phrase 'I'm not a feminist', which I've very probably written somewhere on here, and yet it comes to mind to say it again now. I hate it because it (wrongly) suggests some sort of radical bra-burning, man-hating extremism, maybe even lesbianism. I wouldn't say that any of this qualities pertain to me. However, I am acutely sensitive to what it means to be a woman today, and how this idea is formed and manipulated by the culture around us - be it films/art/literature, or the press, or one's own peers. I consider myself to be very independent but I also thrive in my (heterosexual) relationships. My world doesn't revolve around body image, a desperation to achieve a celebrity level of beauty, or the need to find a man to 'complete me'. But I find that these characteristics are challenged and threatened on a regular basis. And I believe that can only be for the worse. I believe that my wish for all women to find happiness within themselves in a culture that makes it difficult, does make me a feminist to a certain degree. Presentations of women that propagate the idea that we are willingly subservient to men and constantly seeking to improve ourselves to become more desirable, make my blood boil involuntarily.

I was reading the Guardian online this morning, as I do most days and came across this article by freelance journalist Jill Parkin, with 30 years experience under her belt. I'd encourage you to take a moment to read it, but if you can't/won't, it basically describes how recently she's found herself having to reject freelance assignments for the first time in her life because so many of them require women to completely expose themselves and their personal lives in their writing. Examples include the women talking about their degrading sexual habits, or those undertaking fad diets: the Daily Mail is currently running a weight loss contest between two journalists. Ms Parkin is quite right when she says: "it's almost as good as women mud-wrestling or a wet T-shirt competition".

I don't make a habit of leaving comments on articles but I was incredibly frustrated that there wasn't the opportunity to comment on this one. I thought her article was a real eye-opener. It made me feel incredibly uncomfortable, but at the same time I applauded her approach and unwillingness to participate in this charade (although this record suggests she succumbed at least twice in late 2007). As she says, men are not expected to debase themselves in the same way. It's very fitting with the women's magazine culture which purports to advise us on the best ways to live our lives, which I've discussed elsewhere. It's an illusion which reinforces the idea that we are perpetually incomplete without more material things (namely clothes, shoes, bags and beauty products), without losing just a bit more weight, and of course, without a man.

I know that the magazine industry and press in general has been suffering desperately in recent years, and the battle to attract and retain readers is an incredibly tough one. But I don't believe that reducing the editorial to the lowest common denominator is positive for any of us. I say the 'lowest common denominator' because magazines would probably argue that they are only responding to demand, and they have a point. It is frustrating that women are buying into this kind of material, and thus feeding it. I remember finding it fascinating to see how more than one new UK women's title purported to be making a stand and providing more intelligent editorial, that women are seeking - such as First magazine. However it took very little time for it to metamorphose into the typical mould of celebrity/fashion/sex/beauty as espoused by the likes of Glamour, Company, even Heat etc.

It's funny then that just recently I've started writing for an online women's magazine. I'm not going to provide links, but my belief is that if I want to try and change, or at least challenge this culture, then I have to set an example myself. Not one beauty or weight loss article so far. I'm mostly concentrating on cultural articles - film/book/art reviews, topical commentary. However I'd like to introduce a quasi-biographical section with positive female role models (with a less didactic title...). I'm not out to write feminist articles, but neither am I intending to blindly continue the superficial style of editorial that's so dangerously prevalent in women's light reading today.

Wendy and Lucy

I'd been meaning to check this out for a while - it first came to my attention when I was in the UK, but not being in a big city, I wasn't able to get to it. So when I got to Paris I was happy to see it hadn't yet started its theatrical run. Better still, I was glad to see a film which had had a fairly low profile in the UK, was actually getting a hell of a lot of publicity out here. This situation has also been replicated with some other 'indie' features, including Rachel Getting Married, which has some seriously big posters down in the metro. It's not released yet, but I'll be interested to see what business it does out here.

Back to W&L: I went to see it as part of a film club. Alas my company (who I'd not met previously) weren't so appreciative of the film, with the American woman at the end saying 'that was crap' just a little too loudly at the end. And I can see why people would be frustrated with the film. However, I was dying to recommend 'In the city of Sylvia' to her...

I make the parallel with 'In the city...' because what they have in common is their lack of 'action', that we're accustomed to. By action, I mean narrative, not action as an an 'action-movie'. But I often find these films the most rewarding. I think that an accurate representation of real life in any art is the greatest challenge, and achievement if well done (you may not be surprised to find that the French 'realists' are among my favourite novelists). Hence, films that are well done in near-enough 'real time' are my high - think '4 months, 3 weeks, 2 days'...

W&L is the story of Wendy and her dog, who are on the road towards Alaska, where Wendy hopes to get a job, since she's heard they're looking for people. At the start of the film, they've pulled up in Oregon for a pit stop. And from the outset, we're informed about Wendy's lack of money, which forms the backbone of the film. I knew I would empathise with her because I've come to paris without a job - my last 2 UK clients have only just paid me (both over a month overdue) and I've literally been counting my pennies every single day to try and get by. And in this situation, all expenditure is analysed and has to be justified. One night when I didn't have enough money for a hostel (and my friend already had people staying), it actually crossed my mind to stay out late and eventually crash in a stairwell of a friend's parents' flat that I had the entry code to. I'm not sure how seriously I entertained that thought, but as it happened I ended up in a cheap hostel, and didn't get a wink of sleep due to fat guy in bed opposite snoring his head off all night. I only tell you this story because I could tell exactly how Wendy came to the conclusion that she would be alright sleeping in the woods.

Michelle Williams is so perfectly cast. She is a really under-appreciated actress and all the better for it because I feel that having grown up with her on Dawsons, she is really at home in this rural America environment (Brokeback confirmed that too). I'm not sure of her age, but she is such a waif in this film that she could easily pass for early twenties. I think she was flawless.

I really felt like I was going through the emotions with her - when she got caught shoplifting and spent the whole day dealing with it, and incurred the fine, I know far too well that feeling of saving money, only to end up paying more, and wasting time later. That sense of hopelessness that you know her dog is going to be missing when she gets back. The irritating store clerk who she has to face again. That sense of desperation that you're dealing with a potentially infinite problem - it could be weeks or months before she finds the dog, if at all. Then the car! All these unforeseen costs that prove that you can't ever really budget in your own life. And the episode in the woods! I felt like I could imagine or remember, similar situations happening to me. I'm sure I'm not alone in that. I thought it was fantastic.

In the Cut

In the Cut

I've ummed and ahhed about watcing this since it was released. The Piano is up there in my top 5 favourite films, so I'm always interested in what else Campion has done, but the reviews of this were so hit and miss that I wasn't sure whether to take a punt on it.

This is famously the film that instigated the on air dispute between Brit legend Sir Michael Parkinson and Meg Ryan, as he quizzed her about the sexual nature of the film. I was wondering whether she had taken the playing-against-type theme a little too 'to heart' in this interview, as I'd not expected the loveable, doe-eyed, wide-smiling Ms Ryan to ever be so hostile in real life.

Reviews and comment have really laboured on that fact that this film is very sexual: a quick scan of IMDB reveals 2 articles entitled 'Meg Ryan in sadistic porn flick?' and 'Meg Ryan takes on naughty role'. Admittedly this may relate to the fact that the novel on which it is based seems more extreme than the film. But nonetheless - come on - I would never have concluded that the sex in In The Cut was any worse than many other similarly pitched films. Sure there is a graphic fellatio at the beginning but it doesn't trouble us particularly because it doesn't concern any of the leading characters. In fact we cannot even see the faces of the participants - what I'm saying is we have no emotional connection to the characters (or the actors) - unlike in, for example, The Brown Bunny. Other than that there is a sex scene between Meg Ryan's character Fanny and Mark Ruffalo's Detective Mulloy. It's a strange scene which cannot help but look like he is basically rimming her. However, in the context of their subsequent conversation, we realise that this was not the case. Apart from these scenes, 2 scenes where Ryan masturbates, and some petting, there really shouldn't be any raised eyebrows. I think it's probably more about the fact that it's Meg Ryan than anything else. Frankly i had a hard time dealing with both Ryan and Ruffalo playing completely against their romcom identities, but I think this is probably more about my perception of them, than their performances as actors.

The production team was a formidable female powerhouse - combining the producing talents of Laurie Parker and Nicole Kidman (her producing debut) with the writing talents of Susanna Moore and Campion, and the directorial skill of the latter. Consequently I thought this was a real opportunity to present a strong female character with depth. But I couldn't help but feel that it falls rather short. Fanny is resolutely austere, giving little away verbally or emotionally. It's implied she has a profound, intelligent side from her profession as a literature teacher, research into the culture of black slang and by the fact that - wait for it - she is moved at regular intervals by poetry displayed on the metro. These moments had to be the most cringeworthy of the film - perhaps just following Mulloy's rather surprising proposal to Fanny "If you want me to lick your pussy I can do it". I'm undecided whether it's the language or Kevin Bacon's overacting as a stalker ex-boyfriend which warrants more face scrunching.

There is nothing remarkable about the story - it's a thriller by numbers. I can't claim to have read the book but I'm aware that Moore, as the novelist and screenwriter of this work, has apparently completely changed the ending, rendering it much less powerful in the process. Maybe it was actually a sage economic decision that means that intrigued people like me will go out and buy the book now.

All in all the film was pretty much what I expected, which is something that I wouldn't watch again or recommend to a friend. Campion went back to directing shorts after 'In the Cut' - as a fan of her early shorts I need to check these out ASAP - but I will be looking forward to her most recent feature 'Bright Star' about the life of John Keats, which is currently in post-production. I hope that the shorts have taken her back to her roots and we'll some of the talent she displayed before the disappointment that was 'In the Cut'.

Christine Vachon: Kids and Safe

So the lack of posts corresponds directly to a rather large upheaval in my personal life which consists of moving countries. I'm now happily settled in Paris, after 10 nights on various people's floors across the city before finding my own place (actually a flatshare with some cinephiles). Luckily, despite the urgency for finding a flat and job (well, one out of two so far isn't bad), I've still managed to catch a couple of things, although sadly it wasn't at Paris' famous' 'Printemps du cinema' where tickets are all €3.50 for 3 days (worryingly, the last time I was living in Paris, 2003-04, I remember €4-4.50 being the normal price for a cinema ticket). Anyway I saw In the City of Sylvia and Frozen River, which I hope to write about separately. I also stepped back in time and watched the whole BBC Pride and Prejudice series, and their version of North and South - will discuss them later.

I've been off reading for a while, partly due to general restlessness in life, partly due to only bringing one book to Paris with me ('Metrostop Paris' which is disappointingly dry so far). But when my sister popped over to Paris last week she managed to bring me one of the 2 Christine Vachon books I'd ordered before I left home - 'A Killer Life' (the second book). I've raced through it (as I tend to do with all books on film production) and am about 30 pages off finishing so far. I've read about her before in Tim Adler's The Producers (please note deliberate boycott of linking to Amazon since #amazonfail furore) and so know a bit about her approach and oeuvre. She's consistently produced provocative films - sometimes I've felt they might be a bit too provocative - a bit angry for the sake of it, but I really haven't seen that much of her work to judge fairly.

So I set to work on it at the weekend. First up was 'Kids'. Before I'd made the decision to watch it, I'd read a few things about it in the book, notably about the death of Justin Pierce, who killed himself aged 25 in 2000, 5 years after Kids was completed. This warped the watching of the film for film me slightly - not least because somehow I thought that actor who played Telly was Justin - so I was watching it and wrongly thinking that he was dead.

I actually really enjoyed Kids. I've had friends tell me they thought it was horrific and sensationalist, but I just found it gritty and real. More than any of the activities shown, I was troubled by the dialogue between the boys - both Telly and Casper on their own at the beginning, and then in the flat. Nothing else really fazed me. Notably, in this post-Sex and the City world, I wasn't shocked by the girls' language whatsoever. The other shocker was the assault on the guy in the park which I found quite distressing. More so because I felt conditioned to expecting some kind of remorse, which never came.

The choice of real actors has to be applauded. Vachon talks at length about the problems this posed during shooting, with many of them failing to turn up, shoplifting, taking drugs on set and generally causing no end of trouble. But all their hard work is clearly visible on the screen. I don't know if they could have extracted such great performances from real actors. Interestingly, a real actor was cast for the part of Jenny, but dropped at the last moment when they found Chloe who was up and coming as New York's hottest, but reluctant it-girl.

I had a real 'Romeo and Juliet' feeling towards the end when you're desperately hoping that Chloe Sevingy's character Jenny will stop Telly from giving the virus to Darcy. I felt a terrible sense of hopelessness. However, although the justification is that she is too 'out of it' due to the drugs, and consequently she'd be feeling the effects of it the next morning, I wasn't entirely convinced that she wouldn't have stopped Casper. This scene - due to the sex between minors - was one of the most difficult to get past the censors. But more so than the act, it's his 'Jenny, it's me, Casper, it's OK' refrain that's the most haunting.

Meanwhile, Safe, released in the same year, was an altogether different story. I've always admired Julianne Moore for her astute role choices and it's interesting to note that Safe was her first leading role. Also interesting to note that she got her first lead role aged 35 and has gone up and up since then - while most actresses are lamenting the fact that after 35 they only get poor/supporting roles (if any), I would suggest that this is the difference between working with the studios and going independent, or at least making choices with integrity.

So I was sad to find 'Safe' a bit of a let-down. Its 2 hours felt more like 3 1/2. In fact I actually fast forwarded through many of the later scenes which I only do very very rarely. Most of all I just found Moore's character Carol, incredibly flat. Haynes drags the narrative along like a sack of potatoes, revealing very little along the way. Meanwhile, Carol is far too manicured to make any breakdown convincing. I felt like I was rolling my eyes each time she fainted or found herself paralysed to communicate. Honestly, when I like about it I feel so lethargic that I almost can't find the energy to even review it.

The art direction combined with the long, wide, lingering shots really communicate the coldness and alienation of Carol's world very well. But as a spectator they left me uninspired. I guess after just watching a film so resplendent with energy as Kids, Safe felt like the aftermath of their wild party where everyone had just gone to sleep.

What's probably more interesting is to look at how this sowed the seeds for 'Far from Heaven' - testament to Haynes' continuing fascination with unmasking suburbia. I saw it when it was released but would like to revisit it. I've also just grabbed 'Savage Grace' and so will feed back on these soon.