Women-Characters or Performers?
In today's day and age, it's easy for someone like me to go off on film and literary analysis. Let's be honest. Everybody in my particular social class agrees on what is good and bad, to the point of there being very little difference of opinion to pique my interest, and most people get their opinions from reading reviews or watching video essays. Now, there's nothing wrong with this widespread interest in film and literary criticism. However, there is a lack of artistic honesty with believing every source of such criticism and repeating the views of someone else without thinking it through.
A lot of complaints made by cultural critics have been regarding the lack of "strong, female characters" in cinema. I say that in quotes because the term has been used so many times now that it has become less of a description and more of a trope. Just imagine a stone-face, straight-backed woman in muted colors, fast-talking and straight-talking in a way that would undoubtedly make her sound cold in real life, walking with her head held high into a boardroom/operation theatre/NASA/inner city high school/war (or intergalactic war, I am looking at you Rae) or whatever high stress scenario the writers decided to put her in. Critics had reasonable complaints about the lack of strong portrayals of women. However, at some point, the criticism went on for so long and existed so unchallenged that now, what we get in the name of a 'strong, female character' is not a character representing a person, but a character performing feminism. She has no flaws, no weaknesses, and is always ahead of the men around her in a way that is not only unrealistic, but also looks down upon the audience, as if we don't understand that women are strong in spite of having weaknesses and not because they were born with Angelina Jolie's face body with killer martial arts and mathematical skills and just jumped out of the womb ready to raid tombs.
If you're looking for examples, just think about Hermione from Harry Potter, a character so brave, so self-sacrificing, so intelligent, that it is obvious that she is what J.K. Rowling wishes she was, a character I can't bring myself to like because in high school, I was plainer and more bookish than Hermione was ever portrayed to be (thank you, Miss Watson). It's because no my plainness and bookishness had a consequence--no Victor Krum would have asked me out back then, I didn't always get the smartest lines in my group of guy friends, and most importantly, even though I wasn't beautiful by any high school standard, I didn't really have the heart to look upon the girls who liked makeup and clothing and had boys taking interest in them because while I got into a reasonably good architecture course in Kolkata, some of those girls went on to become doctors and economists by getting into colleges I honestly wouldn't have gotten into. Their overt femininity had nothing to do with their brilliance, and I'm saying that even though I didn't necessarily share a great relationship with them. I wonder why nobody looks at the Yule Ball scene as frivolous wish fulfillment even though we're so critical of ugly duckling-to-swan stories where a girl takes off her glasses and is suddenly beautiful. And this is arguably the most beloved female character for our generation.
Then came the Reys, the Katnisses, the Trises (because in young adult fiction, 'strong women' can't have normal names). I'm sure this trend is not over, even though the YA dystopia genre is struggling and is getting replaced by the John Green-brand of flawed, sentimentality rooted in real world struggles. Unfortunately, adults don't fare much better. I've already spoken of Tomb Raider, a woman so perfect she puts her male contemporaries to shame, but I must say the reboot did a much better job with its central character. Then there's the superhero genre, which went from corners of nerd culture to the most mainstream cultural phenomenon of the 2010s. There you have your Black Widows, your Captain Marvels and all the women in Black Panther (and I freaking loved Black Panther). These women can have bad things happen to them but they have no internal weaknesses. These characters have no real flaws to speak of, and when they do, it's usually something that's not a real flaw but is presented as a flaw, such as being adorably naive or improbably clumsy or just blissfully unaware of her own beauty. The only exception was Wonder Woman, who is all-powerful but still fawns at the sight of a baby (okay, so maybe I'm being a bit biased about this, as people who know me will say). They perform the feminist narrative of women being equivalent to goddesses, a narrative based more on superiority than equality, and unfortunately, a narrative developed primarily by first-world white women who are now in a position to influence millions of people.
In Hollywood, the festival circuit has been more successful in portraying real women. I fell in love with Ladybird last year, and it didn't matter that she was white and had first world problems because she was real. The unlikeable, difficult and whiny protagonist of The Edge of Seventeen won me over and made me laugh. Heck, Hidden Figures had three heroic, humble, and most importantly, undeniably female and feminine characters that I will remember my whole life. But commercial blockbusters have, for the most part.
What might be surprising to many, but not surprising to me, is that Bollywood has faired much better in this regard. The moral struggles and dilemmas of Raazi's Sehmat had me at the edge of my seat, because she wasn't the usual spy, the killing machine originally written for men and then replaced by a woman. She is a spy because she is a woman, and it is when she sacrifices the stereotypically female ambitions of love and family that I felt the most for her, because one can see how much this sacrifice cost her. For a veriety of reasons, Queen wasn't my favorite film, but Rani's decidedly Indian naivety was so relatable at parts that I had to forgive some double standards in the film and enjoy her antics. People make fun of me for my love of traditional Yash Raj Films, but I related to Shruti Kakkar's dreams in Band Baaja Baraat, and cheered when it was her hard work and diligence, and not male-defeating one liners, that bring her success, and then rooted for her when she chooses to get into an arranged marriage for the sake of her family and her own security, true to her Janakpuri upbringing. But my favorite is the title character from Piku, because give me a few years, and that is who I am becoming--perenially irritated by my parents' house but actually becoming like them, and to top it all off, she was an architect! And I am so proud that these films were not just critical darlings but also commercial successes in a country like India, where Ladybird and Hidden Figures have to settle for festival circuit success which only gets some financial recuperance after awards season promotions.
The reason for this is simple. Commercial Indian cinema written with female characters (at least the good ones) is often written with adult women in mind. Commercial Hollywood fare still has more male fans than female, at least statistically, whether politcial correctness lets us admit it or not. They are geared towards the crowd that grew up with comic books and fantasy worlds, and there is nothing wrong with that per se (even I love myself some of that action) but to hail these characters as the championing voice of feminist representation is to spread misinformation and sets up more unrealistic standards than any Barbie doll could ever set. As a real-life woman, I find it difficult to relate to women on the page or on screen who are so strong, independent and flawless that they could never be real human beings. I feel as if these characters are just wish fulfilment for their writers (whether male and female) who grew up on first world feminism, and their fictional women are projections of what they wish they could be or have. Unfortunately, these characters have an inordinate amount of influence, and are informing a whole generation about what 'good' women are like. What is also unfortunate is that this generation is being deprived of mainstream female role models, ones that we can realistically look up to.
A lot of complaints made by cultural critics have been regarding the lack of "strong, female characters" in cinema. I say that in quotes because the term has been used so many times now that it has become less of a description and more of a trope. Just imagine a stone-face, straight-backed woman in muted colors, fast-talking and straight-talking in a way that would undoubtedly make her sound cold in real life, walking with her head held high into a boardroom/operation theatre/NASA/inner city high school/war (or intergalactic war, I am looking at you Rae) or whatever high stress scenario the writers decided to put her in. Critics had reasonable complaints about the lack of strong portrayals of women. However, at some point, the criticism went on for so long and existed so unchallenged that now, what we get in the name of a 'strong, female character' is not a character representing a person, but a character performing feminism. She has no flaws, no weaknesses, and is always ahead of the men around her in a way that is not only unrealistic, but also looks down upon the audience, as if we don't understand that women are strong in spite of having weaknesses and not because they were born with Angelina Jolie's face body with killer martial arts and mathematical skills and just jumped out of the womb ready to raid tombs.
If you're looking for examples, just think about Hermione from Harry Potter, a character so brave, so self-sacrificing, so intelligent, that it is obvious that she is what J.K. Rowling wishes she was, a character I can't bring myself to like because in high school, I was plainer and more bookish than Hermione was ever portrayed to be (thank you, Miss Watson). It's because no my plainness and bookishness had a consequence--no Victor Krum would have asked me out back then, I didn't always get the smartest lines in my group of guy friends, and most importantly, even though I wasn't beautiful by any high school standard, I didn't really have the heart to look upon the girls who liked makeup and clothing and had boys taking interest in them because while I got into a reasonably good architecture course in Kolkata, some of those girls went on to become doctors and economists by getting into colleges I honestly wouldn't have gotten into. Their overt femininity had nothing to do with their brilliance, and I'm saying that even though I didn't necessarily share a great relationship with them. I wonder why nobody looks at the Yule Ball scene as frivolous wish fulfillment even though we're so critical of ugly duckling-to-swan stories where a girl takes off her glasses and is suddenly beautiful. And this is arguably the most beloved female character for our generation.
 |
| Hermione had one flaw, that she was plain. But they fixed that when they cast Emma Watson. |
Then came the Reys, the Katnisses, the Trises (because in young adult fiction, 'strong women' can't have normal names). I'm sure this trend is not over, even though the YA dystopia genre is struggling and is getting replaced by the John Green-brand of flawed, sentimentality rooted in real world struggles. Unfortunately, adults don't fare much better. I've already spoken of Tomb Raider, a woman so perfect she puts her male contemporaries to shame, but I must say the reboot did a much better job with its central character. Then there's the superhero genre, which went from corners of nerd culture to the most mainstream cultural phenomenon of the 2010s. There you have your Black Widows, your Captain Marvels and all the women in Black Panther (and I freaking loved Black Panther). These women can have bad things happen to them but they have no internal weaknesses. These characters have no real flaws to speak of, and when they do, it's usually something that's not a real flaw but is presented as a flaw, such as being adorably naive or improbably clumsy or just blissfully unaware of her own beauty. The only exception was Wonder Woman, who is all-powerful but still fawns at the sight of a baby (okay, so maybe I'm being a bit biased about this, as people who know me will say). They perform the feminist narrative of women being equivalent to goddesses, a narrative based more on superiority than equality, and unfortunately, a narrative developed primarily by first-world white women who are now in a position to influence millions of people.
In Hollywood, the festival circuit has been more successful in portraying real women. I fell in love with Ladybird last year, and it didn't matter that she was white and had first world problems because she was real. The unlikeable, difficult and whiny protagonist of The Edge of Seventeen won me over and made me laugh. Heck, Hidden Figures had three heroic, humble, and most importantly, undeniably female and feminine characters that I will remember my whole life. But commercial blockbusters have, for the most part.
What might be surprising to many, but not surprising to me, is that Bollywood has faired much better in this regard. The moral struggles and dilemmas of Raazi's Sehmat had me at the edge of my seat, because she wasn't the usual spy, the killing machine originally written for men and then replaced by a woman. She is a spy because she is a woman, and it is when she sacrifices the stereotypically female ambitions of love and family that I felt the most for her, because one can see how much this sacrifice cost her. For a veriety of reasons, Queen wasn't my favorite film, but Rani's decidedly Indian naivety was so relatable at parts that I had to forgive some double standards in the film and enjoy her antics. People make fun of me for my love of traditional Yash Raj Films, but I related to Shruti Kakkar's dreams in Band Baaja Baraat, and cheered when it was her hard work and diligence, and not male-defeating one liners, that bring her success, and then rooted for her when she chooses to get into an arranged marriage for the sake of her family and her own security, true to her Janakpuri upbringing. But my favorite is the title character from Piku, because give me a few years, and that is who I am becoming--perenially irritated by my parents' house but actually becoming like them, and to top it all off, she was an architect! And I am so proud that these films were not just critical darlings but also commercial successes in a country like India, where Ladybird and Hidden Figures have to settle for festival circuit success which only gets some financial recuperance after awards season promotions.
The reason for this is simple. Commercial Indian cinema written with female characters (at least the good ones) is often written with adult women in mind. Commercial Hollywood fare still has more male fans than female, at least statistically, whether politcial correctness lets us admit it or not. They are geared towards the crowd that grew up with comic books and fantasy worlds, and there is nothing wrong with that per se (even I love myself some of that action) but to hail these characters as the championing voice of feminist representation is to spread misinformation and sets up more unrealistic standards than any Barbie doll could ever set. As a real-life woman, I find it difficult to relate to women on the page or on screen who are so strong, independent and flawless that they could never be real human beings. I feel as if these characters are just wish fulfilment for their writers (whether male and female) who grew up on first world feminism, and their fictional women are projections of what they wish they could be or have. Unfortunately, these characters have an inordinate amount of influence, and are informing a whole generation about what 'good' women are like. What is also unfortunate is that this generation is being deprived of mainstream female role models, ones that we can realistically look up to.
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