Film

I'm going to say something rather shocking now.

Or, well, I find it commonplace — common sense, even — but apparently the world in general does not. Certainly not society, nor books/films/television/discussion thereof. Judging from the lack of this sentiment being sung from the rooftops, as I think it should be, I guess I'll just say it here.

Just because someone loves you doesn't mean you owe them a darn thing.

Or, tried the other way –

Just because you love someone doesn't mean they owe you a darn thing.

Sounds pretty simple, I know, and I'm sure I look silly for making a big deal out of it. But the truth is, people seem to forget this a lot, and the media certainly isn't making it any easier to remember.

I see this trope everywhere, but particularly when the dreaded discussion of Nice Guys comes up again (please see this iconic post by MightyGodKing in lieu of me ranting about it — I'll wait). A guy loves a girl. He's a good guy — both Nice or genuinely nice count here — and he does a lot of things for her. Maybe he helps her realize she doesn't need to do [insert self-destructive behavior or relationships here]; maybe he helps her realize she doesn't need to listen to her family all the time; maybe he literally sacrifices his life for her, or at least puts himself in danger to save her.

The rhetoric that follows is usually thus: the girl is, somehow, obligated to fall in love with him, and if she doesn't she's "ungrateful" — but even if she does, she won't deserve him. Scores of fans and/or critics will kvetch about this nice, self-sacrificing guy doing all this for a chick who isn't good enough for him.

Katniss from The Hunger Games gets this — Peeta has feelings for her, he's a fairly good guy (at first), and he nearly gets himself killed in several horrible ways for her. Yet she doesn't instantly drop into a swoon, instead taking a while to focus on her feelings independent of all the outside pressures — and, you know, not dying — so wide circles of the Internet have declared her an unfeeling, callous bitch.

Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany's (the film) doesn't want to be tied down, and refuses to believe that she should own — or be owned by — anyone. Her day job is a high-priced escort, and she's had enough of it that she doesn't want it in her relationships. It's not exactly healthy, but it's what she wants right now. The hero, Paul-not-Fred, can't let this go, going so far as to tell her that she does belong to him, because that's what happens when you're in love.

The end of For Better or For Worse was basically a clustermuck of wilting, mustachioed proportions as Elizabeth, a spunky, independent woman who dated more than one guy in her life (shocker!), slowly gets whittled down by family and friends to give up the life she carved in order to settle down with Blandthony, a boring guy who married a woman he didn't love and had a baby she didn't want and works at a gas station and who saved Elizabeth from a rape only to sob on her shoulder five minutes later that his marriage was cracking and he still loved her.

The girl in Avril Lavigne's Sk8r Boi decides that popularity is more important than a guy she made eyes at a few times across the cafeteria, and so she spends her life "nursing the baby, [...] all alone", complete with "gotcha!" moment when she realizes the guy is MTV-famous now. (I could do a whole post about this song, really.)

I don't even think I need to list the modern (as in, 80s and later) romantic comedy for this one.

In discussions about these types of stories and in real life, the smug sentiment prevails that this girl had better "come to her senses" and snap him up now, because he won't wait forever, and then one day she'll realize her mistake but it will be too late and she'll spend her life with cats or some jerk who doesn't love her or the kid some guy knocked her up with before leaving — and the nice guy won't care because he's moved on and is married to twenty Swedish supermodels who are also contortionists and nuclear physicists.  Bitch.

"He won't wait forever!" "Soon it'll be too late!" "It'll be your fault!" "You'd be lucky even to have him!"

On and on and on. There are so many problems inherent with this, especially given that we aren't existing in a medieval society where the first gaze meant ownership, that I can't even go through them all. That having a child and then becoming a single mother is shown to be the "punishment" for not being interested in Nice Guy X is a rant on its own.

But at the heart of it, it boils down to this: we fall in love when we fall in love. Yes, other people can affect that, but they can't actually make us unless they do something very illegal with a syringe and oxytocin.

And if we don't fall in love, it's not out fault; we aren't bad people; we don't do it on purpose; and we don't deserve to be stigmatized for it.

Love is not Quinn Morgendorffer's checklist of which guy is the best to date, based on car, choice of restaurant, clothing, or seasonal vacation equipment. We don't actually sit here thinking, "I know this guy loves me, but I'm going to consciously erase the part of my brain that might reciprocate".

Harsh? Yes, but I'm tired of it. Being in love does not entitle you to anything, and that includes if you're a nice guy or the one who really understands her or the one who's known her longest or has her coffee order memorized or, yes, saved her from death.

Loving someone does not entitle you to anything.

Being loved by someone does not mean you owe them anything.

Let's get out of the dark ages and into the proper millennium, shall we?

It's a sad day when I step in to save the Disney princesses. It's kind of like when the most fundamentalist of Christians think Fred Phelps is crazy. I have a feminist opinion on everything, and always have had since I was a little girl. I've been called "man-hater" and any number of lovely monikers for my opinions since before I hit puberty (though back then I think it was called "cooties").

And yet, I have to say, lay off Belle and Ariel. 

I've seen it all over the place, and it's beginning to drive me crazy. Not because I think the Disney women are paragons of strength and gender non-conformity, but because people are, so often, missing the point. I can passionately agree with someone's ideas, but if I think they're making them on mistaken grounds, I can't get behind what they're saying.

Let's start with Ariel.

What people say:

The "lesson" in The Little Mermaid is all about keeping quiet; it doesn't matter if you have nothing interesting or intelligent to say — and if you do, it's better to shut up, anyway — because men don't care about that. They want your looks.  Your pretty face.  And don't underestimate the power of body language!

Why they're missing the point:

Did that last sound familiar? That's because Ursula, the villain, actually says that in the film.  In fact, her entire reprise of "Poor, Unfortunate Souls" undercuts the very societal trend that feminists are accusing the film of espousing.  Ursula mocks society, highlighting the idea that men like stupid, silent women — and making fun of everyone for it. She clearly thinks Ariel's an idiot for taking the deal, because it doesn't actually work. This is what everyone tells you men like — but it's not true.  Not the good ones.  Not the ones who find true love.

And it doesn't work. Eric doesn't fall in love with Ariel based on her looks ("on her BODY!" one scandalized blogger spat, as though noticing someone's physical appearance is a sin).  There's an entire scene, leading up to the iconic "Kiss the Girl" song, devoted to wondering why the heck Eric hasn't sealed the deal yet on the basis of Ariel's big blue eyes alone. Sebastian's advice to Ariel about "you gotta bat your eyes, like dis; you gotta pucker up your lips like dis" is for naught.  Eric does lean in to kiss her in the boat, but only because the animals give him the subliminal equivalent of a sledgehammer to the back of the head.  It's not enough.

The other thing is, though, that Ariel and Eric do communicate. They communicate like a mute person and someone who doesn't speak sign language, or two people without a common language.  And it's not just mad flailing; while Eric occasionally misunderstands her, he responds to her as a person who is actually talking to him, not like someone making goo-goo voices to a baby or "you're so cute, aren'tcha!" to their dog.  So often in movies, when there's a communication gap, people talk at the other person, not expecting a response; Eric doesn't. He waits for Ariel to react and gauges her opinion on her expressions and gestures — watch the scene where he tries to guess her name.

Yes, all right, it is lame that he falls in love with her just because she saved his life, and this is not the best basis for two teenagers (sixteen and eighteen) to marry.  And yes, Ariel drastically changes her physical appearance and leaves her family in order to be with Eric, something that always made me frown even when I was five years old. I always cried at the ending, not because I was happy, but because I couldn't believe Ariel would leave her father and the ocean just for this guy. I'm not crazy. But this is why I get so annoyed at the people who focus on Ariel's silence — there are plenty of things to criticize, so why that point?

Let's move on to Belle.  First, let me just say that until I came across a number of blog posts castigating her — one that even referred to her as "the worst" Disney princess — I didn't even realize there was a problem. I, a person who routinely gets frothingly angry over commercials, no less.

What people say:

Belle's story is all about living with an abusive partner, hoping that if you stick with him long enough, he'll magically change and you'll have a prince. It sets up the unrealistic expectation that abusers will stop if you just keep quiet and take it — eventually, your love alone will heal them. That's a horrible message to tell little girls.

Why they're missing the point:

We already have a Disney princess whose moral is to keep quiet about abuse: Cinderella. But that's a rant for another time.

I don't even know where to start with this. First of all, Beauty an the Beast is not about putting up with domestic abuse, because Belle does not put up with it — not once!  She shouts back; she refuses to acquiesce to his demands; when he orders her to stay in her room and starve if she won't play nice, she waits until he's alseep and gets her own food; she ignores practically every rule the Beast sets out for her.  She never rewards his behaviour, instead calling him out openly and clearly, rather than reacting passive-aggressively and hoping he gets the point. When the Beast changes his temperament, it's not because he was healed by her love but because for the first time in his life — he was transformed when he was 10 or 11, for goodness' sake, and surrounded by nothing but kowtowing household objects after that — someone told him his behaviour was inappropriate.

This is not what abuse looks like.  If it were abuse, Belle would not have shouted back at him; she would not have "broken her promise" and left when he roared at her and broke things; she would not have refused to come to dinner; she would not have explored the castle against his wishes, even going so far as to barge in on his private sanctuary — which, when I was a kid, bothered me immensely, as I valued my privacy, and I understood why he went a little nuts.

Some people are not taught how to behave; the Beast certainly wasn't. Of course we don't date these people, hoping our love will change them — Belle doesn't do anything of the kind. If anything, she takes on the role of stern teacher, and shows not even a hint of romantic interest until after he realizes he's been behaving badly and attempts to change.

In fact, the movie gives us a distinct contrast in the way that potential abusers can react to being brought up short on their behaviour — Gaston.  Remember: the Beast behaves badly, and Belle tells him so; he falls back, reconsiders himself and his actions, and decides to better himself.

Now take Gaston.  He behaves even worse than the Beast, in my opinion — while the former has the excuse of being sequestered away in a tower, turned into a hideous monster, and never told the word "no" by his entire entourage, Gaston has nothing.  He's dismissive, disrespectful, physically threatening (notice how he's always inserting himself into Belle's space, and attempting to initiate contact while she expressly refuses).  His dream marriage is one where his wife is a combined mother, housekeeper, and sex slave — not unlike the marriage ideal of our society.

Belle calls him out on it.  Repeatedly.  She even uses small words when she realizes he's not getting it, just like with the Beast. But rather than realize that his behaviour is inappropriate, Gaston responds in the creepiest manner ever — becoming more attracted, and resolving to break her, even if he has to isolate her from her family and loved ones in the process.  The Beast does the same, but not out of sexual intent; Gaston does.  Gaston wants Belle, not because she's particularly beautiful, but because she's a challenge — and his ego can't handle a challenge.  Nothing would please him more than seeing this fiery, intelligent girl massaging his feet.

And so, rightly, Belle rejects him, because he does not change. Later, she ends up falling for the Beast because he does change. This is not a weak woman who knuckles under to abuse. Belle ignores the Beast when he's having a tantrum, smacks him when he's out of line, and doesn't fall for him until he grows up.  To accuse her of being an abuse victim misses the point so entirely that I can't even come up with an appropriate metaphor.

The fact that these bloggers write off the Beast for having a temper — one to which Belle never capitulates, but challenges herself — bothers me to no small degree.  In a way, what these women are suggesting is that the only men we're allowed to marry are, in fact, the personality-less Ken dolls of Disney movies past.  No personality, no faults, no temper.  As if no one could enjoy verbal sparring, when in fact I know several couples who use fighting as foreplay.  If we flipped the gender switch, would these bloggers argue that a woman should not be allowed to have a temper?  I think not.

Again, like The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast does have its own weird mixed messages. After all the emphasis on falling in love with someone regardless of appearance, the Beast gets turned back into a cookie-cutter prince who, strangely, loses all his originality and appeal. With some thinking and twisting you can find ways to look at it that aren't disturbing — that, for example, this isn't Belle's reward, but the Beast's, as now he can marry without having pitchforks thrown at him, and his servants can stop being, well, tableware — but at first glance, it's definitely puzzling.  So why, again, stoop to the false premise approach?

Unfortunately, there's an even bigger problem at work here. More than one blogger expressed distaste for Disney princesses, and either refused to buy them for her daughter, or sighed and capitulated but gritted her teeth in secret.  Why?  Both these approaches are flawed.  In the first, the daughter won't understand the reasons, and will just think her mother unreasonable; in the second, she won't ever learn that her mother is upset.  There's a better answer here, and wait for me, because it's a radical one –

Talk to your children.

No. Really. If a child is old enough to absorb unhealthy messages from the media, then she or he is old enough to sit down with a parent and talk about these messages. 

When I was a child, my mother banned several things she thought were inappropriate. For some of them, she gave me reasons; for others, she just said "because I said so". In the cases where I was given a reason, I was able to consider whether or not I agreed with her reasoning, and decide for myself whether it was worth it to break her rules. Sometimes I ended up agreeing with her; sometimes I thought she was worrying unnecessarily, as I wasn't getting the message she feared I was. But in the cases where I got no reason, other than "it's inappropriate" or "it's not funny", I honestly didn't understand, and generally was angry or bitter about having something taken away. When we didn't have a meaningful discussion about why my mother disliked me watching or reading something, I took nothing away from it.

No one can force a parent to let their child watch Disney films.  If said parent really, really hates the Disney princesses with a passion but has a child who loves them, then why not make it a teaching point?  Why not counterpoint the "bad values" that the Disney movies espouse with positive ones, as contrast? Ask the child questions: "Do you agree with Ursula? Do you think girls should be quiet if they want boys to like them?" or "What should you do if the person you love shouts at you?" and see what they say. At worst, the kids will think exactly what the parents are afraid they're thinking — at which point the parent kicks off a discussion — and at best, the parent fosters the desire to think critically about the messages presented in the media from an early age.

Either way, in the words of that youtube guy whose name I don't actually know, leave Belle and Ariel alone!

This is as much a query for real life as it is for fiction, but as I'm not a psychiatrist or a life coach, I'll stick with the writing version thereof: why are we so obsessed with the "win her back" trope?

We all know the story.  Boy finds girl, boy loses girl, girl finds new boy, boy undertakes a series of wacky/heartwarming/dangerous adventures to "win her back", girl dumps new boy, boy reconciles with girl.  Music swells.  Everyone says "awww".

The escapades can be anything from serenading under the window with a boom box (cough), to trying to undermine the new relationship, to desperately attempting to catch the new dude doing something sketchy so he can wrangle events and have the girl find out.  We feel for the main character, who realized what he'd lost only too late, and just wants to make things right.  We know that eventually the girl will realize she had the right one all long.

You know what we call that in real life?  We call that stalking.  It's illegal.

If you're a regular reader of fmylife, it's not hard to find FMLs from girls whose stalker ex-boyfriends found their phone numbers or their addresses and are now following them, sending them roses, texting them romantic songs, showing up at their workplace, begging for forgiveness.  These girls are not touched or moved; they're annoyed, or worse, frightened.  Being stalked is a horrifying, helpless-making experience.  It is by no means romantic.  

Yet in the movies, we seem to forget this.  Yes, okay, if fiction matched real life it would be pretty boring most of the time.  But people internalize what they read or watch (see: all the girls who think that Edward Cullen is a fabulous boyfriend), so what sort of message are these stories sending?

It doesn't matter how much the girl protests, how much she says she loves the new guy, how much she insists she's moved on.  He knows she's lying, and so do we.  Often the guy plays what I consider an insidious, emotionally abusive move: "If you can honestly say you don't love me, I'll leave you alone".  This is a trump card for him, because if the woman says yes, he'll accuse her of lying.  If she says no, this somehow negates her decision to move on with her life — as though no relationship could possibly end without both parties wanting to set the other on fire.  As if no relationship could end, for good reason, with unresolved feelings.  It's disingenuous and cruel.  

Call me old-fashioned, but for me, love is all about respect.  Respecting the other person's choices, wishes, and boundaries.  If there's a no, that darn well means no!  Badgering someone to accept sexual advances is not "love".  Convincing someone that their new lover could never love them like you do — based on nothing but your own jealousy — is not "love".  Playing on someone's vulnerability to get them into bed is not "love".  Never mind that, in many cases, relationships ended for a reason, and those reasons haven't gone away just because one party gets Big Yellow Taxi syndrome.

A few movies avoid this trap, or at least are aware about it: Better off Dead, with John Cusack, shows us the boy who wouldn't let go, and who eventually realized he was much happier without her.  Casablanca has Rick put the two lovers on the plane — "we'll always have Paris", indeed. But they aren't the norm.

Perhaps more telling is that if you flip the gender line — a girl who won't give up on her ex-boyfriend, no matter the cost — then suddenly we have Fatal Attraction, Swimfan and or a host of horror tales.  The traumatized guy.  The crazy woman.  The poor family pet.  There's no question in these movies that the woman is insane, that the guy has moved on.  Even My Best Friend's Wedding, where the insanity is reserved for engineering breakups and accidental betrayals, has her eventually realize that what she's doing is wrong.  I don't want to turn this into a feminist rant, so I'll leave it at that, but it is an interesting point.

The whole plotline irritates me to the extreme.  Love is about respect, and too few fictional romances acknowledge that.

If there is one on-screen plot device that I could kill, burn, and desecrate, it would be this: lesbian has affair with straight man, but goes back to her partner in the end.  I can't think of many plotlines that are more erroneous, dismissive, and harmful to an entire demographic.

Lesbian characters in film are one of the toughest demographics to get right.  I adore Famke Janssen's Judy in "Eulogy", Lena Headey's Luce in "Imagine Me & You", and both the main characters in "But I'm a Cheerleader!", but more often I find myself slapping my forehead at screen lesbians who are either overly butch and nastily played for laughs, or preternaturally feminine and gorgeous.

Lesbian relationships are even more difficult to get right.  Since most conversations between women on screen happen about men or over men, screenwriters can't seem to imagine what lesbians actually talk about.  (A similar problem exists with depictions of gay men, who, apparently, see more women in their underwear than heterosexual men could ever dream of seeing.)  This leads to the usual "conversion/cheating experience" — most film lesbians don't realize they prefer women until they've been in a relationship with a man, usually cheating on him with another woman.  When it comes to portraying difficulties in an established relationship, this problem escalates.  Instead of dealing with any of the myriad things that couples face on an every-day basis, the go-to plot seems to be, "make one of the lesbians have an affair with a guy".

I first saw it in Queer as Folk, an abysmal waste of an hour a week, when Lindsay — for no reason I could fathom — ignores her long-time partner and their two children for a tryst with a man who's been pursuing her at her gallery.  Um, okay.  My relationship with the show was always stormy at best, but this was the final straw that got me to stop watching for good.  It was such a blatant slap in the face to the legitimacy of lesbiansm (ironic and hurtful considering none of the gay men in the show ever had an affair with a woman) that I was flabbergasted and furious.

I've come across it since several times since then, and each time I just get angrier.  Lesbians have a different problem in society than gay men do — where gay men are much more visible and would like to be left alone to live their lives, lesbians have to struggle to be recognized at all.  Lesbianism's unjustified reputation as a "phase" (no doubt bolstered by the innumerable female celebrities who grab an extra fifteen minutes by citing the quintessential "bisexual college phase") is so ingrained that very few people take it seriously.  (The only other orientation that has it worse on this front is true bisexuals, but that's a rant for another time.)  Even beloved (?) gay icon Lady GaGa has stated that women are fine for fooling around with, but when it's time for a real relationship, that's when you go for a man.

It's insulting, it's untrue, and it's horribly dismissive.  As a woman not interested in sex with men, I can't count how many times a man has leered at me and told me "just to try it" because then I would find out what I've been "missing".  I've also lost track of how many women have told me, quite kindly, that that's all well and good, but one day I'll meet the "right man" and put all this behind me.  Ask an 'out' lesbian and I can guarantee she'll have at least one experience of this.  In some cases it's been a one-off comment, a sort of joke that falls flat, but in others, I've been harassed and followed and badgered — down side streets, no less — until I was forced to call in reinforcements to rescue me. 

Since society is being so pigheaded about this, I suppose it's too much to ask that movies abstain, but I keep hoping.  The worst part is how deep this myth has dug its little claws.  It would be easy for me to dismiss this as a male fantasy, and sure enough, the writers of Queer as Folk, Gigli, and most instances of this trope are, in fact, men.  But that's not always the case, and this is where my brain explodes.

The most recent example is found in "The Kids Are All Right", a film with Julianne Moore and Annette Bening.  Oh, look at the nice lesbian couple and their kids.  Uh-oh, one of the kids is looking for his birth father (an anonymous sperm donor).  Oh, they found him, and he's cute!  Oh lord. Eventually the birth father comes to dinner.  I hoped, nay, begged that the film would not go where I knew it was, but I was wrong.  Julianne Moore's character does indeed have an affair with him.  Apparently, not even over twenty happy years of partnership and two children is enough to keep a lesbian happy; one dimpled, rumpled man comes into her life, and of course she jumps in the sack with him.

Annoyed, afterward I checked the film's credits and was flabbergasted to find that the film was written by a lesbian.  And not just any lesbian: Lisa Chodolenko, whose prior films I didn't personally enjoy but the cultural relevance of which I would never deny.  Remember the scene in "The Two Towers" (film) where Treebeard sees the waste of the forest of Isengard and howls, "A wizard should know better!"  That was basically my reaction.  Not just anger, but betrayal as well.  If any film should be free of this horrible trope, you'd think one written by a lesbian would do it.  But apparently not.

Because of this, I find myself baffled over what the target demographic of these films is supposed to be.  If it's written by men, that answer is fairly clear; consciously or not, these films chip away at lesbian relationships by insinuating that all lesbians are up for sex with a man, whether they're single or committed.  These films are gratification for men, but also subtle education for women, enforcing the unwritten rule that all women need a man at some point or another.

If written by a lesbian, however, then I just have no idea.  I don't know what message Chodolenko was attempting to pass on with her film, but as a lesbian she must be aware of the culture of dismissiveness surrounding female-female relationships; ignorance is not an option.  As such I find myself more saddened by her film's inclusion on this list than any of the others.

Regardless of the intent, though, I think we can agree that this needs to stop.  It's bad enough that filmmakers can't come up with a better conflict for an established relationship than infidelity, no matter what the sexuality, but when this only adds to a public consciousness that refuses to recognize the validity of an entire set of relationships, then it stops being funny.

Lesbians deserve respect in life; film should be no different.