Firstly, hello and thank you to anyone currently reading this and thank you for whatever support you have given Screenqueens over the past 2 years, it has been so brilliant and refreshing getting to reach out to so many film fans and film-makers who are as passionate about women in film as we are. We have created this anniversary zine as an amalgamation of 2 years worth of fumbling, procrastinating and strange little facebook messages to each other about characters, shots, directors and women in cinema and we hope it reflects the broad tastes and interests of every SQ writer. We have musings on lesbian tropes, fashionable film girls, representation and some of our favourite characters and everything in between. I hope you enjoy reading and please keep an eye out for future print zines and on the SQ blog/twitter for some new expanding content! P.s Support women filmmakers and ur local cinema. <3 CHLOE XOXO
De Palma is often accused of misogynistic filmmaking, beautifully photographing violence against women and creating female characters that have little to do but scream and wear sexy clothes. While one could make convincing arguments both for and against that claim, one De Palma character that bears further analysis is Elvira Hancock from his 1983 classic, Scarface. It is easy to overlook this role, overshadowed by Al Pacino’s bombastic Tony Montana and relatively small screen time, only 20 minutes altogether. If you viewed all of her scenes together, you may not feel the role had any importance and fell into misogynistic traps. Viewed in wider context against the film, there is more to Elvira than meets the eye. Michelle Pfeiffer brings aspects of the character to life that is not readily seen on paper. Her Elvira is wounded and hurt, yet wears a cool sheet of armor via wry humor. She is an ice princess whose cold words could cut glass. Yet a fiery anger burns through her that seems to suggest so much more beneath her surface, a depth that an actress who merely relied on looks would not have been able to reach. Elvira could have easily been cast as a va-va-voom object with no thoughts and feelings. Pfeiffer reveals that her brittle and freeze-dried exterior hides within a scared and lonely girl living in a man’s world. To the men in that world, Elvira is an object. She is another prize that Tony will win by subjugating his bossTony wants to obtain Frank’s power, wealth, and woman. Elvira personifies Tony’s American Dream- a blonde and thin dream doll that is the perfect trophy to have on his arm. “She is a tiger; she belongs to me.” Tony declares, and he eventually cages her just like the tiger he chains to his estate. In a 1994 interview, Pfeiffer reflects on playing Elivra: “Sometimes, though, by playing an object you can actually say more about objectifying women than if you play somebody of strength. She was hood ornament, like another Rolls-Royce or something, for both of the men that she was with. I felt that by playing something that mirrors someone’s life in that way, I could make a kind of feminist statement. It depends on the way in which it’s presented. If you’re glamorizing or glorifying it, then I object to that.”
Not all female characters have to be pillars of strength in order to be a feminist role. Pfieffer’s willingness to show Elvira’s vulnerability compensated by her humor creates a dynamic character and performance, one that doesn’t just rely on the jokes she spouts or the beauty of her looks. Showing women who are objectified so heavily opens us up examine just how and why that happens. I do not feel that De Palma glamorizes the objectification of Elvira. The film does not even glamorize drug use, despite the film’s over-thetop lavishness and audience’s idolization of Tony Montana. At the heart of Scarface, there is a sadness and emptiness that is often overlooked, just as there is in Elvira. Pfeiffer taps into the depths of her character, who like the film itself, is only seen for what is on the outside. In turn, she reveals the film’s inner workings. Our first look at Elvira epitomizes her objectification, she is seen with her back turned (in a gorgeous low-cut dress) in a glass elevator, like an angelic Barbie doll in her box. Her boyfriend and current top drug lord, Frank, introduces her to Tony and Manny. Frank complains that he is hungry and Elvira retorts, “You’re always hungry, you should try starving.” She continues prodding Frank by dryly adding that he goes to the same restaurant so much that if anyone wanted to assassinate him they would know where to find him. Through this dynamic, we can see that Elvira is not passive in any way. Elvira belittles Tony when he calls her his baby and says she looks like she hasn’t “been fucked good in a year.” She angrily replies that her lovemaking is none of his business and “I’m not your baby. Don’t call me baby.” Elvira is not afraid to make the cocksure men around her feel small, whether it’s her big boss boyfriend or Tony. She reduces Tony to a little boy, which fuels into his need to possess her. Taming the fiery woman will make Tony feel more like a man. After killing Frank, Tony goes to the bedroom and wakes the sleeping Elvira, tangled in champagne colored satin sheets. “Come on get your stuff. You’re coming with me.” Elvira is an object to Tony, a toy readily passed on to a new Barbie doll dream house. Tony’s pursuit of Elvira has paid off, and they marry. Although he espouses kind words to Elvira about wanting her to be the mother of his children, there is no love there. The most telling aspect of their relationship is that there is no sex scene between them.
An interesting choice, since many of De Palma’s leading ladies have a sexual scene to accompany them. A sex scene would change the entire composition of Scarface. I believe it helps cement Elvira’s status as mere symbol or object. Tony’s possession of Elvira is not borne out of carnal desire, but the image of a trophy wife. As shown in the giant painting of the couple that adorns his mansion, Tony needs Elvira with him because it looks so good. Elvira is valued and objectified for her status, appearance, and what she represents. Her true relationship with Tony is cold, their union a mere strategic calculation for Tony’s rise to the top. Cut to the scenes of the unhappy Montana family. Elvira has broken one of Frank’s rules- she continually gets high off of her own supply- or the supply that Tony provides for her. Elvira is a junkie, destroyed by the use of drugs just as much as Tony is destroyed by purveying them. Tony’s rise to power has made him obsessive and paranoid, with an insatiable and endless desire for more. She is bored and tired of Tony talking about money, telling him that if someone had given him money he would be a nicer person. Tony accuses her of having nothing to do with her life, that she should get a job. “Anything beats lying around waiting for me to fuck you all the time.” Elvira, ever present with ice-cold witticisms, replies that he shouldn’t toot his own horn because his lovemaking isn’t that great. In the famous dinner scene, Tony complains to Manny that Elvira cannot get pregnant because her womb is “polluted”, presumably from her drug use. Pfeiffer magnificently shows Elvira’s fury and hurt. Although Scarface never explores this, we get a sense of what pains Elvira the most, the lack of children and direction in life are sore spots for her. Although Elvira’s backstory is never explored- one could imagine that she had left home (which she mentions is Baltimore) with little schooling and a need to rely on the only thing she had- her good looks. Wielding her looks trapped her within the objectified lifestyle- coupled by her addiction and dependence on the drugs- and nowhere else to go. Perhaps this is why Elvira allows herself to be so easily passed from man to man, she has nothing else, no skills or means, to rely on.
The stoned Tony Montana belittling her so cruelly is the final straw. “How dare you talk to me like that! You call yourself a man! What makes you so much better than me, what do you do? Deal drugs? Kill people? Oh that’s just wonderful Tony –a real contribution to human history.” This dialogue is almost speaking with the audience. Many young men- particularly rappers or of Italian descent (although Tony is Cuban, Pacino is Italian) idolize Tony. Although Tony climbs the ladder of success, achieving the American Dream and earning more wealth than he knows to do with, his extravagant life is a cold and lonely one. This is epitomized in the shot after Tony’s argument with Elvira, the camera craning up to show Tony in his massive bathtub, unhappily alone and drowning in his abundant opulence, his greed swallowing him. Tony and Elvira share no human relationship or connection, they are alone and miserable despite being surrounded by everything and anything they could want. As she has done time and time again, Elvira makes the men around her feel small, exposing their male chauvinism as the mere playacting of little boys. Their “business”, where they wield guns freely like toys and take others lives’ without so much as a breath, brings nothing to the world and themselves but misery. Elvira sees this now, and gains the courage to leave. She has earned the foresight of what this lifestyle has gained for them, they may be rich in gold but their life is empty of anything else. “Can’t you see what we’re becoming, Tony? We’re losers. We’re not winners, we’re losers.” While we are entertained by Tony’s climb to success (how could you not be, with De Palma’s exciting and operatic filmmaking?) we should not envy or idolize it. Tony Montana is not a winner in any sense. The depths that Tony plunged allowed her to see the light and escape the miserable cage of her existence. We can only hope that Elvira does not leave only to find herself as someone’s object yet again. Pfeiffer’s performance allows Elvira to transcend as more than just object, more than a witty ice queen or vapid trophy wife, as a lesser skilled actress could have easily made her. The credit goes more to Pfeiffer than De Palma, but his choice to portray a sexless relationship between Tony and Elvira echoes the impotence of Tony Montana as a whole. For all the power that he does gain, it ultimately leaves him with nothing. De Palma ultimately- though it’s hard to see- deglamorizes the lavish lifestyle that Tony covets. Elvira is the beating heart of Scarface, working to expose the true meanings that is hidden beneath her and the film’s shiny Rolls Royce exterior.
I’m definitely not the most stylish girl on the block, but with an interest in film aesthetic and design I’m often conscious of character’s physicality and outfit choice. The thought process behind every minuscule detail in CREATING a film is something that really excites me, the critical acclaim for something like costume design being unfairly small in conjunction with the work gone in. I wanted to take a look at some of the most wonderfully dressed women in film. This is for a jumble of reasons, whether for their individuality, courage, class or influence…Here we go. EMMA RECCHI - I Am Love Tilda Swinton is the pinnacle of elegance. Her role in Luca Guadagnino’s I Am Love (Lo Sono l’amore, 2009) is essentially the summation of her as a person; as a drifting, ghostly, powerful, vulnerable matriarch. Costumer Antonella Cannarozzi wisely curates the outfits to mirror Emma’s sexual and romantic liberation. Always minimal, loosely fitted feminine wear, she develops into a much more colourful and androgynous style. The clothes are so CLASSIC, equivalent to that of Tilda’s timeless beauty.
CASSANDRA WONG - Wayne’s World Cassandra is SO COOL. Lead bassist and vocals in ‘Crucial Taunt’ and wearing the best nineties outfits, she is clearly miles out of Wayne’s league. She pairs things that normally I would be offended by, but you know what? They work. She makes them work. One day she’s bohemian, one day she’s a glittery stripper and one day she may be working the leather. It works. CHRISTIANE F - Christiane F
MATHILDA + LEON - Leon: The Professional I’ve included both Leon and Mathilda in this because they are impeccably dressed. I WANT to wear what Mathilda wears and I DO wear what Leon wears. Both sporting ill fitted hats and clothes, the duo resolutely contrast in style. Whilst tiny Natalie Portman brings colour to the French hit man’s life (physically and metaphorically), she is also arguably the muse for high street style at the moment. Crop tops, high waisted shorts and boots, as well as the classic choker; Mathilda is nineties style porn. She’s rad though and her hair is incredible.
Watching this at thirteen in my German classes, I was mostly struck by how horrific heroin was. But I was similarly introduced to how fucking cool underground seventies Berlin was and the wonder that is David Bowie. Christiane does ‘Heroin Chic’ as early 2000’s magazines labelled it, incredibly well. She layers minimalist pieces, believable to both era and age, with her amazing amazing jackets and dyed red hair adding vibrance to the palette of the film.
CLEMENTINE - Hard Eight Paul Thomas Anderson’s films are always meticulous in presenting the era or setting and despite being a more subtle feature of his works, I hugely appreciate it. The attention to character through design is hugely relevant with Clementine, played wonderfully by Gwyneth Paltrow. As a vulnerable show girl waitress, mostly off duty during the film, Clem channels the ‘weathered glamourous’ look. With blue as her main colour, tousled hair and smeared make up, she shouldn’t look that cool? Like, pairing a sequinned dress and a cardigan? She’s got smart casual down. And it looks good.
LYDIA DEETZ - Beetlejuice Winona Ryder can be excluded from no list. Lydia Deetz is my absolute style icon. COOL GOTH. I love it. Tulle everywhere. Black everything. THAT WEDDING DRESS. Her bizarre gelled fringe? YES. Lydia is an outsider, a teen connected to the world of the dead. Refreshingly, she never hides from this identity, instead fully indulges it, including spooking her family and their friends (in a fantastic and manic dinner party scene). What a joy.
What was the first movie you ever saw to feature a lesbian character? I'm not sure what mine wasâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;I know as a kid I shipped Miss Honey and Matilda, but I'm not convinced that qualifies. Lesbian movies are hard to come by, and realistic portrayals of lesbians in cinema are even more of a rarity.
Recent television has gotten some elements right. Lesbian characters written by real, live lesbians are showing up more and more frequently, with Orange is the New Black breaking new ground with its portrayal of lesbianism both within and outside the prison system. The Fosters is another contemporary television show featuring lesbian characters—this time as two moms raising a family together. Orphan Black features a couple of lesbian characters and Pretty Little Liars has several as well. Before these shows, The L Word was responsible for bringing lesbian culture to the forefront, though any butch visibility remained in the background. Prior to The L Word, the only television lesbians who spring to mind are Carol and Susan from Friends—not the best example. Though it’s been around longer than television, film still struggles with this issue. Donna Deitch’s 1985 Desert Hearts was the first lesbian movie to feature a happy ending, but these are still fairly uncommon. Representation continues to be of utmost importance. As mainstream pornography’s influence grew, Hollywood and the film industry at large tended to hypersexualize lesbians, to kill them off, or to undermine their identities by having the characters pair or sleep with men in the end. All of these tropes negatively contribute toward lesbian stereotypes in their own way. First, let’s get things straight (so to speak): women who sleep (note the present tense of the word) with both men and women are not lesbians. I understand there exists lesbians who in the past slept with men or who struggled with their sexualities before coming out, and these occurrences don’t act to negate or invalidate their present identities. Aurora Guerrero’s 2012 film Mosquita y Mari presented this point without exploiting the characters, so it is possible. It’s pretty simple, actually--a lesbian seeks relationships (romantic, sexual, what have you) with other women, because a lesbian feels attraction for other women. Bisexual women can and should be free to define themselves in whatever way they see fit, but the definition of lesbian has remained pretty fixed throughout history, and I see no reason to change it. When people talk of sexuality being fluid, they fail to understand the reasons many women have for being lesbians—whether these reasons are perceived as inborn or chosen.
These are all issues worth discussing, and should be approached with an open and eager mind. Though bisexual representation is important, it is not the subject of this piece— the directors of so many of these films did not necessarily seek to portray bisexual women in their works but rather lesbians who choose to be with men (itself a contradiction). In these directors’ minds, lesbians are accessible to men because they don’t really see sexuality as fluid but rather female sexuality—female boundaries. Though not all of the women in the films below were written as lesbians, when viewing these from a lesbian lens we see how same-sex attraction is used, among other things, as a tool for male seduction. This is another trope which carries over into real life. Hypersexualization of lesbians presents lesbianism as a ploy for male attention and invalidates the legitimacy of female intimacy and sexuality. Bound was one film that took this stereotype and turned it on its head—the relationship between the two leads is never once trivialized. Like so many problems within the film industry, the ones I’ll be discussing in this piece might not be as frustrating if lesbians had anything to balance it out. But how many movies are there about seemingly straight women finding in the end they weren’t straight after all? I’m going to go with “three”, and that’s me being generous as I can really only think of one. Admittedly, I haven’t seen every single film featuring a lesbian character, but patterns become pretty clear after the first few. Mostly, I’m just beyond bored of the narrative offering we’re handed. There seems to be little progress being made in mainstream cinema, and when movies like Carol do come out, they’re given a limited release. I’m writing from Indiana, y’all. The last lesbian movie we had released here was The Kids Are All Right, and you better believe I’m addressing that one below. There have, thank goodness, been several films which stand out as being exceptions, while others fit pretty clearly into categories which perpetuate lesbian stereotypes both in film and in life. In this piece, I’ll be offering a short description of some of these movies, and will further assign each a rating for general artistry (whatever that means) as well as a rating for ‘lesbian watchability’. Not all of these movies are “lesbian movies”, per se, but they all exist outside of the sphere of heterosexuality.
This list is sure to frustrate some bisexual women, and definitely, there’s something to be explored with that topic as well. Your concerns are valid. I get it—me saying these movies are lesbian movies eats away at bisexual representation, and that sucks. What also sucks is having maybe a handful of movies with actual lesbians on the screen. It’s lose-lose, essentially. The solution, as always, is more representation. In the meantime, I write with lesbians in mind.
Typically, films set in the past have a better chance of accurate lesbian depictions--male audiences are less upset by a movie if the women they can’t have exist in the past rather than the present. These films are not without criticisms—often, because of the time period, social standards equate to unhappy endings, and as with a lot of period pieces in general, these films could benefit from greater diversity. I understand not wanting to watch film after film about a white couple, but taking all that into consideration, the following films are some of the best featuring women in love and in costume. Fried Green Tomatoes Ruth and Idgie forever. Especially Idgie. Artistry: The scenes taking place in the present tend to feel a bit dated, but it’s all still massively enjoyable. Watchability: High. Watch it with friends, watch it alone, and if your mom’s a homophobe, watch it with her. The lesbian love story is subtle enough without queer-baiting audiences. If These Walls Could Talk 2 A 2000 anthology film directed in equal parts by Jane Anderson, Martha Coolidge, and Anne Heche, If These Walls Could Talk 2 tells the story of three pairs of lesbian couples through the years. The first section will devastate you, the second will make you think and third will make you want to dance along with the main characters. Artistry: Pretty high quality as far as TV movies are concerned. Watchability: 9/10. I can’t promise that you’ll be able to see Elizabeth Perkins the same way after watching this. See also: Carol, The Color Purple, Tipping the Velvet, The Hours
My least favorite of the tropes and what also seems to be the most common in contemporary film, the bisexual lesbian shows up when characters written specifically as lesbians end up sleeping with men. This depiction of lesbians perpetuates dangerous stereotypes. Directors who portray lesbians as being romantically or sexually interested in men are acting thoughtlessly, if not irresponsibly. Such a portrayal fuels the myth that lesbians are secretly attracted to men and puts actual lesbians at higher risk of harassment and sexual assault. While some of these films don't specifically state the characters in them are lesbians, we might wonder why the pattern is so often the same—why women historically interested in other women suddenly choose to be with men. The Kids Are All Right The kids might be all right, but I definitely wasn't. What a fucking slap in the face to lesbians everywhere. I've read what Lisa Cholodenko had to say about her 2010 film—she basically admits to catering to male audiences, and it shows. General artistry: Yeah, okay, it's a well-made film. The music's great, and the two leads wear some nice leather cuff bracelets. Lesbian watchability: 3/10. Check out the first half for some certified lesbian cuteness between Annette Bening and Julianne Moore, but do yourself a favor and skip the rest. If you choose to keep watching, you'd better keep some tissues handy so the blood won't stain your carpet after you've clawed your own eyes out. Kissing Jessica Stein It's like the Old Yeller of lesbian movies—if you can manage to skip the last fifteen minutes, everything will be okay. True, Jessica doesn't ever call herself a lesbian, and would be better described as a bisexual—but again, we're looking at how same-sex relationships between women are treated by filmmakers and the narrative, and this one further establishes a pattern of women in relationships with other women ending up with men. Artistry: Great. Its two female leads, Jennifer Westfeldt and Heather Juergensen, serve as co-writers and co-producers of this 2001 film, and do a terrific job of crafting New York dialogue that's every bit as witty as Woody Allen's without all the male-centricity. Lesbian watchability: Pretty high, but don't say I didn't warn you about the ending. Chasing Amy Lifelong lesbian falls for Ben Affleck and it's not just a dream. Artistry: You're kidding me. Watchability: You're kidding me. See also: Blue is the Warmest Color, Personal Best
There have been a few comedies which don't veer into predictable lesbian treatment—Alexander Payne's 1999 Election stands out, featuring a gay teen girl as probably the smartest character in the film, though she might have some denial to sort through first as regards her own sexuality. As Tammy puts it, “It’s not like I’m a lesbian or anything. I’m attracted to the person. It’s just that all the people I’ve been attracted to happen to be girls.” Unfortunately, not all comedies treat homosexuality with respect, and some films use lesbianism as a source of humor, with lesbians as the butt of the joke. As social awareness grows, the joke lesbian has become less common, though still persists. In the films below, lesbianism is presented as abnormal at best and undesirable at worst. Mean Girls I know what you're thinking—Janis Ian isn't a lesbian. But that's the point, really. Why couldn't she be? Why does it have to be Very Firmly Established that, at the end, she's straight after all? Is it because there was already one gay character in Mean Girls that they didn't have room for another? Or was it because being a lesbian is seen as taboo, even in a movie which heralds the merits of nonconformity? That's a lot of questions, I know, but this one frustrates me. Mean Girlswas one of my favorites when it first came out, and though I do still enjoy it, I was always bugged by that aspect of the end. Artistry: It's a well-made movie. Watchability: Still pretty high, if 2004 dialogue doesn't bug you by now. Pitch Perfect/Pitch Perfect 2 I'm cutting Elizabeth Banks some slack here, because although the first Pitch Perfect treated gay women as objects of disgust and targets of humor, it seemed Banks did the best she could in directing the sequel. Although the character of Cynthia Rose didn't evolve much and still played into lesbian stereotypes, she wasn't treated with disrespect. Plus, you know, there was even more Brittany Snow. Artistry: The first one is probably the better-made film, but I prefer the second. Watch it already so we can talk about how the Germans deserved to win. Watchability: High. See also: The Brady Bunch Movie, Being John Malkovich, Not Another Teen Movie
Partly originating from the Production Code of 1933, which saw homosexuality as a sin to be punished, the tragic lesbian trope is one of the earliest in cinema and continues to the present day. The films below feature dying lesbians, murderous lesbians, self-hating lesbians, and lesbians who are being slowly driven insane. Mulholland Dr. I was a twelve-year-old gayby the first time I saw this movie, and I think it took until I was twenty or so for me to even realize it featured a lesbian relationship. This could either be because the relationship between Naomi Watts and Laura Harring is the most normal thing in this film or because I was too busy trying to figure out the mystery of the blue box that I didn't notice anything else. Artistry: High, if you're a Lynch fan. Confusing as hell either way. Watchability: High. The relationship eventually goes sour, but it's refreshing to see a same-sex relationship being treated so matter-of-factly in a mainstream movie. Cracks Directed by Jordan Scott and released in 2009, Cracks is as gorgeous as it ultimately is upsetting. Eva Green plays Miss G, a teacher at a girl's boarding school with an unusually close bond to the girls. Y'all know what I mean. Artistry: Perfect. Watchability: 9/10. See also: Heavenly Creatures, Monster, Freeheld, The Children's Hour
This one’s a mixed bag. Independent filmmaking can be just as male-dominated as the mainstream movie industry, but can also offer a safe haven for oppressed groups to share their perspective and stories. The following films display a broad spectrum of experiences, and in watching indie films about lesbians, I try to pay special attention to the identity of the director. Pariah Made in 2011 by Dee Rees, Pariah tells the story of Alike, a 17-year-old lesbian in New York City. I know plot descriptions for movies like these generally list the main character as “coming to terms” with their sexuality, but Pariah was more about Alike as she watches her family come to terms with it. I was pretty
surprised by the ending, and can't recommend it enough. Artistry: Through the roof. Rees went on to direct HBO's Bessie, about Bessie Smith, and I'm excited to see that one as well. Watchability: High. Contracted It's an interesting premise, though unfortunately the execution is a bit too brutal for my taste. The film's about a lesbian who is drugged and raped at a party, after which she develops a virus and attacks those closest to her. If you're absolutely set on watching it, I'd recommend viewing it as a dissertation on the impact of rape on its victims and their families, but this is likely giving the director too much credit. Artistry: Pretty low budget, though that can be a positive for body horror. Watchability: I couldn't really recover from the opening scenes, so I'd say proceed with caution. But I'm a Cheerleader For many the introduction to lesbian film, Jamie Babbit's 1999 But I'm a Cheerleader cemented Natasha Lyonne's status as gay gal heartthrob. This movie has several really sweet moments, and the aesthetic is to die for. Artistry: I'm actually not too big a fan of Jamie Babbit, but I'd say that's personal preference, and there's a good chance you'll feel differently. Watchability: High. See also: I've Heard the Mermaids Singing, Go Fish, The Watermelon Woman, Anatomy of a Love Seen Not all of the films listed here are inherently awful. I love a handful of them, as a matter of fact. Still, almost all of them have one thing in common: they rely on lesbianism or coming out as the main plot of the film. Heterosexuality is so ingrained by society in our minds that we generally assume a woman is straight unless told otherwiseâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;and even then, sometimes it takes repeating. (You see this happen in real life as wellâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;if I hear a woman's girlfriend being described by the press as her 'gal pal' one more time, I think I'll vomit.) Sure, there are films like D.E.B.S. and Life Partners, which treat lesbianism as a facet of a person rather than their only quality, but these films are still far too scarce. I want MORE. I want movies that address the unique hardships faced by lesbians in the world without sacrificing plot. I want lesbian musicals. I want a lone wolf lesbian detective on the beat. I want a dorky teen lesbian overcoming her fears to audition for the school band. I want a Batwoman movie, dammit. The more lesbian filmmakers we have out there making movies, the more accuracy we'll have in the filmsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;so let's get to it, then.
Photo stills of a noir film from my imagination
This time last year the film world was shaken by George Millerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s 4th venture into the dystopian wasteland of Mad Max. Critics roared and men screamed in terror to discover that the main character was in fact..... a woman?! And a one-armed, shaven-headed war rig driver at that. Imperator Furiosa is one of the finest women characters ever put to film and the turning point for any action film that followed, or be that, any film. So here is the part where I confess my undying love for Furiosa...
Stolen away from her homeland of the ‘Green Place’ and working under tyrannical Immortan Joe as a war-rig driver, Furiosa spent her time devising a plan to free Immortan Joe’s breeders from his misogynistic clutches. Even the mere idea of an action films central plot line being a disabled woman freeing leggy ethereal pregnant models from a monstrous man who wears his own emblem hanging from his crotch, is undeniably radical. From the minute Furiosa and the wives escape the citadel to the lengthy action scenes fightig off Polecats and War Boys, to the reuniting of Furiosa with her people, every last task she puts herself to is carried through with determination, passion and this beautiful slight teary eye in every other shot that makes me well up with happiness. Her compassion and belief in getting these women to safety, at whatever cost, is completely astonishing. But this isn’t a story of crying and afraid women, these are rounded characters, Furiosa can fight, she can drive, she can fearlessly drive herself into a sandstorm and come out the other end, she can completely let go and scream but be ready to move on in the next minute. Her autonomy and confidence in her own decisions is widely respected by Max after they become silent commrades. He never questions her authority or her abilities as a woman with a metal prosthetic arm. The fact that an often violent and ‘mad’ lone ranger such as Max can respect women in a society where people kill, rape and blow each other up for kicks is quite a feat for your standard flashy blockbuster. Away from the runtime dominated by chase scenes and action, one pivotal moment sticks out in the film. When Furiosa learns that her homeland has been destroying because of polluted water, she steps away onto the sand dunes and removes her arm, stumbling and then falling to the ground and crying out. The removal of her prosthetic is the ultimate act of freedom and grief, a woman shedding the item that shackled her to a life of metal and gears, possibly even an item that is too strong a reminder of her initial separation from her people. Furiosa’s commitment to these women and their journey is selfless and beyond what I have been offered from male-orientated action cinema. This is the direction we should be taking, helped along by Vagina Monologues author Eve Ensler, George Miller grabbed the film industry by the juglar, placed cracks in the most sacred of all male temples- the action hero, and quietly began to chip away and dismantle at one of the most tough film genres to infiltrate with diversity.
I went into Working Girl expecting to have some kind of revelation from watching it. You know the feeling— so often do we enter movies, whether it’s our first or our fortieth time watching them, with the expectation of being saved from our waking lives and walking out with a newfound perspective or inspiration to get us through another day. I’m twenty years old, and I have been for four days now. I work in the sales department of my NYC school’s student newspaper, where I get to use computers and fax machines in an office with swivel chairs and a water cooler that receives regular maintenance. I’m also a writer/filmmaker/artist/creative person, and my minor has “business” in the title so that one day I can manage myself in whatever creative film I end up in. On the day I turned twenty I was feeling a little weirded out. Gone were the possibilities of me becoming a teenage sensation in any sense, and yet, I feel like I’ve put together the building blocks for a fabulously exciting decade ahead of me. With all of this yet-to-be-placed ambition floating around along with a strange sense of sour nostalgia, my boyfriend suggested we watch Working Girl to get me feeling excited about growing up. “It’s great,” he said, “It’s got this young secretary who wants to take charge of the company she works for, but there’s someone stealing her ideas! And it’s all about her rise to the top.” It sounded like the perfect film to help me feel like I’m not totally crazy for wanting to create so much lately when I’m having trouble even studying for my finals and the crushing weight of my old age (and my drama queen status) have me crying for the days of my teenage youth.
So we watched the movie last night. It follows Tess (Melanie Griffith!), who starts the movie off with a birthday. Appropriately relatable, even though it’s her thirtieth. She’s a very ambitious young woman with big frizzy hair (it was the 80s in NYC! I couldn’t help but feel my frizzy blonde curls would have made me very popular back in the day), a dumb horrible friend who means well (Joan Cusack! Okay she’s not that horrible but she makes Tess take Valium and that’s not a great move ok? ), and a dumb horrible boyfriend who doesn’t (Alex Baldwin!). When Tess’s dumb horrible coworkers sneakily try to set her up with a creepy jerk (Kevin Spacey!) she pulls a prank on them at work and gets relocated. Everyone loves Tess but they think she’s too ambitious— as is the plight of many a woman. As I was watching this I was aggressively comparing myself to Tess in a desperate search for reliability. I found that yes, I could relate to Tess, but I'm so lucky to have the support system that I do. Tess’s friend, boyfriend, and coworkers are all kind of jerks to her, but my friends, boyfriend, and coworkers are freaking amazing! At about twenty minutes into the movie I was already feeling inspired— who knows what Tess can accomplish? I’m sure it will be great! And whatever Tess does I can do too, because I’m just as ambitious AND the people surrounding me aren’t dumb and horrible! I’d like to take a tangent to note that the OTHER reason we go to the movies/watch television/consume media is to reassure ourselves. "Wow, I’m glad I’m not that guy!” we love to say as we shove popcorn into our faces. Anyway, Tess gets relocated to a new female boss, Katherine, in the mergers and acquisitions part of the company (Sigourney Weaver! She was nominated for an Oscar for this role and rightfully so. She has never been more fab than in Working Girl, I believe). Tess pitches her a merger idea and her boss loves it. Then Katherine breaks her leg skiing and is out of the office for a couple weeks, and asks Tess to fill in for her at work basically. This would be my dream come true: if I could test run job positions the way Tess does here, I would be someone new every day. Just like Barbie (the new one with the flat feet and the more realistic proportions). Tess finds out that Katherine was passing off her merger idea as her own. This is my worst nightmare— I can’t tell you how fatally afraid I am, like most liberal arts students, of someone more powerful than me ripping me off. It’s why I don’t talk to people. I’m kidding— kind of.
So like the inner badass I dream of being but have not yet had the opportunity (or misfortune?) of having to release in my life, Tess decides that she is going to make the merger happen on her own while her boss is away. Along the way she falls in love with her partner in the merger (Harrison Ford!). Drama ensues! I won’t give you any spoilers, but let me say, there are some good twists and turns in this story— everyone’s ambition leads them to be the bad guy at some point, intentional or not, something I find to ring true as a young person navigating NYC. While I felt I could very well relate to Tess, I don’t think I had the exact kind of revelation I was hoping for. Then again, I was really looking for some kind of how-to for surviving the working world when you’re not sure if you’re qualified for the things you want to do (aka my situation). While I won’t be following in Tess’s exact footsteps any time soon, I found a kind of kinship in her that satisfied my movie-watching thirst.
The Alien series gave us two of the best sci-fi films ever to be made, that’s undeniable, but what it also gave us was the genre’s first ever leading lady: Ellen Ripley. Alien was released in 1979 when it was unheard of to have a science fiction/ action film being headed up by a woman and in her first ever main role - Sigourney Weaver proved that a female character within the genre could enrapture audience’s just as well as a male character could (who would have thought!). It could have been all too easy for Ripley to fall victim to the “strong yet emotionless female” trope – if this had been the case, her existence within the films would not have come to much; other than merely increasing the number of women in the series. However, it is the avoidance of said trope that makes her presence all the more significant - we see her during moments of strength and when she breaks down. The scene in the first film where Ripley discovers that if an alien life-form is found the crew are expendable in the face of bringing the life-form back – she proceeds to breakdown and cry. It’s small moments like this throughout the films that add up to Ripley feeling real. She’s not perfect, and shouldn’t be expected to be. She is not void of all personality traits except ruthlessness just to highlight how she “shouldn’t be messed with”. No; Ripley makes mistakes, she get’s angry, lashes out at people, worries about her cat and fights for her life in any way she sees fit. These are the aspects of her that place her at the forefront of the still small, but ever-growing group of leading female characters in sci-fi or action, a prime example being Furiosa from Mad Max: Fury Road – whose writing actually does them justice. What’s interesting about the Alien series is that none of the female characters are sexualised for the benefit of the male audience. In an era when women were still expected to satisfy men and not do much else – it could have been easy for her to have been clad in an impractical outfit for the premise of the films - that had no likeness to the ones worn by the male characters - just to emphasise her body. However, she and the other women in the films are not subjected to this, making their presence meaningful rather than being reduced to an accessory to the men present. In summary, in 1979 when Ellen Ripley was first seen, she changed the game and paved the way for the women in science-fiction/action who would come after her. It is interesting to think about whether or not the Alien series would have been as critically acclaimed as it came to be, if Weaver’s Ripley was not a part of them. I for one believe she made those films and without her, they’d have been good at the time but forgotten after a few years. Ripley’s legacy though, will always live on.
For a long time, now, I have been busy voicing my complaints about the Marvel Cinematic Universe's inexcusable lack of diversity. I have written a number of articles on how its creators could start to encompass the multiple female, non-white, non-straight characters, found in this universe's source material, into their movies. Recently, it would appear that some of my hopes are becoming a reality, as a whole array of diverse characters have been introduced in Netflix's new set of shows based in the Marvel world, including Daredevil's Karen Page and Claire Temple; two kickass women that not only excel in their respective careers, law and nursing, but also refuse to become the victims that the world wants them to be.
Karen's character development, for example, is a thing of wonder. When we first meet her, she is visibly shaken, falsely accused of a horrific crime and in desperate need of a return to an ordinary life. From this point onwards, however, she gradually begins to overcome her anxiety, her strength only growing as she decides not to allow her adversaries to control her and launches her own investigation into their corruption. She emerges from crippling fear to destroy Wilson Fisk's criminal empire via the legal system; proving that, despite a lack of heightened senses and the possession of a near indestructible super-suit, she is still a force to be reckoned with. Claire, similarly to Karen, shows us that one does not have to beat our enemies to a bloody pulp in order to defeat them. Instead, she uses her knowledge of medicine to suggest that, although she is not quite the master of martial arts that Matt Murdock, better known as 'Daredevil' himself, is, she can put up just as much of a fight as he can. If it weren't for her, in fact, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen would most likely have succumbed to his injuries and Marvel's version of New York would have lost the hero that it so desperately needed. Therefore, it is arguable that without Claire and her enviable skills, Murdock would probably fall apart at the seams; quite literally. It is through her that our hero is spared from certain death and it is because of her that he begins to realise he won't always be able to have it both ways, to moonlight as a vigilante while also maintaining honest, strong relationships with those closest to him. As clichĂŠd as this may sound, Claire heals Matt in more ways than one; on a spiritual level as well as a physical one. She represents the reality of being a hero, of its cost and the sacrifices required in order to become one. She is, ultimately, symbolic of humanity. Like Karen, she does not possess unbreakable skin or super-strength. She can be broken and she can bleed; which is exactly why she so often warns Matt of the dangers and loss that he could face, as, perhaps sometimes, the existence of power and incredible abilities can create the illusion that one is untouchable. Claire and Karen are, by far, two of the most interesting women in television right now. They are both fiercely independent and yet, like the rest of us, they stumble along the way, they fall and they fail. But here's the thing; they always get back up. They may not use their fists and they may not carry nunchucks with them at all times but that doesn't stop them from fighting with everything they have in them. They are two fantastic examples of how to write complex women and of how to give a show that focuses so much on fantasy and superpowers a strong dose of reality.
One of the most powerful aspects of film is how we can connect and relate ourselves to characters and stories. Sometimes this may happen by chance, a random viewing leaving a huge impression on an audience member or sometimes we may seek out the stories that validate ourselves or make us feel more accepted. Some characters inspire us to be better people, stick to our guns or be more confident as they are in their fictional world, and others may force us to confront harsh realities of our own lives. Whatever the situation, characters and their quirky personalities and appearances can stick with us long after a film is over. Here are some of those characters that reflect Screenqueens contributors.
Back in high school, my hairdresser told me I would love the film Amélie, so I asked my friend if I could borrow it. I ended up watching it over and over again, about thirteen times, before returning it. I have always felt a connection to the character Amélie. She tends to do things on her own and barely talks at all. Although she is a recluse, she is not a misanthrope—quite the contrary. She likes to devote her time helping others anonymously and feels empathy very strongly. When it comes to doing something for herself, like professing her love to Nino, she is unable to break free from the comfort of solitude and anonymity. I relate to this all too well because I feel like this two hour-long film is a summary of my entire life. I love Amélie so much because she is an example of a person who many people do not take the time to know. If they did, they would see that she is a compassionate, creative, and witty dreamer. They would also realize that she is not this meek, fragile woman, but that she is capable of avenging others if necessary. When I feel bad about myself or think others do not find me interesting, I think about Amélie and feel better. For the solidarity, but also because even though she is introverted and quiet like me, she is able to grow and prove people wrong in her own life. When she does meet and interact with people, Amélie has the ability to open them up and reach out to them in ways others cannot. It’s the idea that she is accepting of herself and continues to do what she believes in without needing constant validation that helps me get through my own hard times. -Cristina
I’d like to say that I’d be part of the freaks squad if I was at McKinley High in the 80’s but to be real, I’d probably be one of the geeks, specifically Sam. Not only are his meme-able facial expressions a gift from the gods but his personality is the most relatable out of all the characters in Freaks and Geeks. Sam doesn’t take himself too seriously, he just wants to embrace his youth, hang out with his two best friends and stay up to watch Saturday Night Live, which is a literal representation of me at 14. The first time I watched Freaks and Geeks I was the same age as Sam, and while I aspired to hang out with Kim Kelly on the smoking patio and cut class with Daniel Desario, what Sam was going through was much more #relatable than Lindsey’s struggle to fit in with the freaks. -Shaianne
During the final scene of The Spectacular Now when Sutter reads out his personal statement, I shed many a tear. Also watching the film at aged 18, like Sutter, everything felt extremely relevant, moving away to uni and being very anxious about my future prospects. I too am terrified of failure and letting people down. Never in any of my days did I think I would be relating to a white male american high-schooler with a drinking problem, but here we are. Despite his drinking and partying (which I also indulge in), at his heart Sutter is just a lost teen, one that aims to please everyone and be the life of the party, sometimes with huge consequences. He has a big heart but is often led astray by the college lifestyle, the same as me. I always go back to the final scene whenever I am feeling down because the best part about â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;nowâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; is there is another one tomorrow. -Chloe
I first watched Rosemary's Baby after an exhausting few months bottling up hate for an institution that accepts misogyny and racism! It meant the world to me that I could finally be just in the comparison that men are literally the devil. After completing the film, I read Ira Levin's original novel. Upon completing it, I cried so hard! It deals with very raw themes but the most transparent theme to me is the role of men in our lives. Without giving too much away, housewife Rosemary and her husband actor John move to a grand apartment. Strange goings on from their next door neighbours alarms Rosemary. After one disturbing night, she discovers she is pregnant. She carefully wraps her bump in smocks and gets a stylish haircut. On a more serious note, the most moving scene to me is when she truly believes that her doctor believes her claims about her husband and neighbours' joint Satanic dealings only to find that later he thinks she is making it all up. Rosemary gets put onto bed rest because no man believes a woman that is 'hysterical'. It is easy to feel like a conspiracy theorist when other people can't see injustices and you're left independently holding onto so much hate from enduring so many demeaning encounters. What is great about the film is that so much of Rosemary's decision making is solitary. It illustrates that being in your own company means finding strengths that you did not know existed. The ending is heartbreaking, never mind that it is a horror film - it shows the very dramatic sacrifices women have to make to get what they want. -Ameena
For many, ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’ (alongside the novel it’s adapted from) is a touchstone of British femininity. There’s no denying that many women have felt a special affinity to the disastrous in love, work and just about everything else Bridget, laughed along knowingly with her frank discussions surrounding the life of a singleton and the woes that come with it. Bridget, just that little bit chubby, with no self-control when it came to calories, booze or secret cigarettes, living a comfortably affluent London lifestyle (but not too affluent of course) and proving that women didn’t have to marry off young, and didn’t have to be ladylike, and could have it all if they were prepared for it to get a little messy. Wasn’t that the post-feminist dream? Weren’t we, with Renée Zellweger’s Oscar-nominated performance getting the ‘real woman’ on screen that we’d always asked for? Well, to condense probably a thousand think pieces maybe not.
Was this ‘heroine’, obsessed with her weight and her diet and finding The One using pop psychology self-help guides really what women had been waiting for? It’s been argued tirelessly that Bridget Jones is actually anti-feminist ‘vapid and consumerist’ (Suzanne Moore, ‘Why I hate Bridget Jones’) rubbish, a female narrative only driven forward by either having a man or lacking a man. A narrative which, the rest of the time, is consumed so much by embarrassing sexual escapades or just getting incredibly pissed that it leaves no time for complexity within Bridget herself. However, I would assert that ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’ actually isn’t as guilty of these damning criticisms as many would claim, and that its importance in the canon of hugely successful films about women lies in how much of a distinctly female creation it is. ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’ (and it feels stupid to even point this out), is told from the perspective of one specific woman. That one specific woman happens to be white, heterosexual, educated, employed and upper-middle class (we can discuss what it means to add to that plethora of narratives, but this is not the place). The fact is that the narrative at hand is deeply personal, and therefore it seems as though any criticism surrounding its vapidness or self-absorption are unfair. Everyone tends to see themselves as the centre of the universe (being, you know, the centre of their universe of experience) and why should this be any different for women. In depth, exploratory films about men are never called self-absorbed - they’re the psychological masterpieces that bring clarity to neuroses and the repercussions of masculinity. I’m not saying that romantic comedy ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’ is intended as a ground-breaking exposé of the feminine psyche, but it not only gives Bridget Jones (who to some extent and some success is considered an ‘everywoman’, despite the personal nature of the film) a voice, but an entire visible, coherent thought process. The team of women behind Bridget Jones succeeded in capturing the particularly feminine neuroses (a conditioned obsession with diet, balancing between assertions of independent womanhood and a reliance on patriarchal propaganda, getting drunk and singing sad songs) and putting them fully and unashamedly on screen for the world to see. It’s significant, of course, that the film and its confident, honest, normalising portrayal of women is dominated by female authorship. The novel’s author, Helen Fielding, serves as a screenwriter. The film is a directed by a woman, Sharon Maguire, a close friend of Fielding who in fact inspired the character ‘Shazza’. Renée Zellweger is exceptional in the role, as are the many other women in the film. Another of the screenwriters is Richard Curtis, a man who, as displayed in ‘Love Actually’ 2 years later, tends to write female characters with a punishing disdain or carelessness - it speaks for itself that this influence was overpowered. Women need to tell stories and have stories told about them. Women need to make films. Women need to live their lives and be the person they are unapologetically, and it’s a responsibility of the film industry to translate that. More recent films like ‘Frances Ha’ and ‘Mistress America’ do it well. ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’ did it well too, and therefore I think so much of the conversation about whether or not it is ‘feminist’ is overwrought and stale. Art about women is not required to be feminist in a clear-cut sense because women live the blurry, grey areas patriarchy creates; for just being art about women, it’s political enough, and that’s the true importance of Bridget Jones.
If there’s anything more satisfying to a young activist (like yourself, I’m sure) than staging a rally to usurp an entity/power/EVIL DICTATOR THAT’S BENT ON PERVESING THE CAUSE OF JUSTICE, it’s watching a riot being staged on the big screen. Whether it’s major, like overthrowing a political group, or passive aggressive, like rebelling against a teacher, there’s nothing better than a good onscreen rebellion to make you truly believe power is with the people. Here are four films where different types of tactics are used to win out over the entity/power/EVIL DICTATOR:
LES The musical-movie adaption pivotal periods of politic film/play/book follows the when the rebel soldiers de
Revolutionary Quote: “This for bread... here is the t Gavroche.
The biopic Milk is about a fighter for gay rights. How activists that stands out. protest that will shame an
Revolutionary Quote: “I kn Milk.
V FOR VENDE This anarchist film focuses on zi-style concentration camp by her revenge, its V’s speech sc blind eye to their fascist gov er they can withstand it all.
Revolutionary Quote: “How’d th guilty, you need only to look
The Hunger Games is a book and tol defends its superiority – b heartless reality show where on taken under the wing of protago As a reaction to her death, Dis fighting the flow of Capitol peac
Revolutionary Quote: “I want to able, to show the Capitol that they can’t own. Rue was more th
MISERABLES- DEFENDING THE BARRICADE n of Victor Hugo’s 19th century novel is set in one of the most cal European history: the French Revolution. Although the entire story of different Misérables, the climax of the film occurs efend their barricade and village from the French army.
s is the land I fought for liberty, now when we fight, we fight thing about equality, everyone’s equal when they’re dead.” –
MILK- GAY RIGHTS NOW! a politician and activist called Harvey Milk who was a vital wever, it’s the scene of him diffusing an angry mob of pro-gay . In this scene, Milk plays the pacifist by promising a peaceful ny of the homophobes opposing them.
now you’re angry. *stands on top of car* I’m angry!” – Harvey
ETTA- STRENGTH THROUGH UNITY, UNITY THROUGH FAITH Patient 5, otherwise known as V, who seeks to avenge those killed in a Nay a lethal drug called Batch 5. Although V uses poison and force to get his/ cene that gives the maximum impact. By calling on all the Britons who turn a vernment, V reassures them that no matter what they fear will happen; togethAs V would say: Strength through Unity, Unity through Faith.
his happen? Who’s to blame? […] Truth be told, if you’re looking for the into a mirror”. - V
THE HUNGER GAMES- RUE’S DEATH film franchise set in a dystopian America, where a cruel city called Capiby forcing a “tribute” from each of its twelve districts to take part in a nly one winner can emerge. A defenceless girl from district 11 called Rue is onist Katniss – but it doesn’t take long until Rue is ruthlessly murdered. strict 11 stages an uprising against Capitol by upturning their district and cekeepers that emerge as a result.
o do something, right here, right now, to shame them, to make them accountwhatever they do or force us to do that there is a part of every tribute han a piece in their Games. And so am I.” – Katniss Everdeen
The idea of representation in movies has always been a part of me, whether subconsciously or not. Renting movies and going to the cinema were traditions in my family, so I grew up watching all kinds of genres. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized I didn’t really see people who looked like me in the movies I enjoyed watching. I didn’t see much of anyone who wasn’t white, actually. It almost made me feel like those who weren’t represented, including people who looked like me, didn’t exist or didn’t matter enough to exist. The problem with this is that most films are fictional and have universal storylines. This means that the race or ethnicity of a character is not always the driving force of the narrative. Therefore, only using white actors does not make sense. I’ve been having very difficult conversations with friends lately who don’t really understand. The difficult conversations typically turn into heated debates, at least in the eyes of the friend I’m talking to. What I mean by this is that, a lot of people think the topic of representation is up for discussion, in terms of having opposing opinions on the matter. However, stating that representation in media matters is not an opinion--it is expressing equality. I had one friend tell me that roles probably didn’t have anything to do with the casting director and that race wasn’t even something they were thinking about. As in, the casting directors never purposely, consciously think to not cast people of color. But it is so well known that most roles go to white people, so the fact that they are not conscientious is still a problem in itself. At the 2015 Emmy Awards, Viola Davis won best actress in a drama series for How to Get Away with Murder. She said that the only thing separating women of color from white women is opportunity. She also said that you can’t win awards for roles that are not there. Not to discredit the success of white people in the film industry, but it is important for them to understand their privilege. Privileged artists can say “I worked hard for this” all they want, but they also have to think of how many people in minority groups also work hard, yet do not receive the same advantages. Clearly there is general discrimination between genders in the industry, but this discrimination is seen even more for people of color, trans people, and disabled people.
I went to college to study film, and while I had an overall positive experience, I remember a time when I was working on a group project. I was the only woman, and I was the only person of color. I was given the position to co-write our project, which I was really excited about. This was an opportunity for me to show others my love for screenwriting. My co-writer and I had finished the script and sent the copies to our other group members. When we met the next day to talk about the script, I noticed that it had been changed. When I confronted one of the other members, he said, “That’s filmmaking,” in a condescending tone. That was the moment when I knew being taken seriously by an industry dominated by mainly white, cis-gendered men was going to be hard. I have been feeling a little bit more hopeful these days, despite the hard conversations I’ve been having. I’ve been engaging in television shows that depict minority groups in dimensional ways. How to Get Away with Murder, The Mindy Project, Jane the Virgin, Sense8, Master of None, to name a few. I’ve also been enjoying watching foreign films and diverse independent films. It’s gotten to the point where it’s almost guaranteed to receive less views if an entire cast and crew consists of mainly white people. The number of people who aren’t represented make up a large part of movie audiences, hence why this year’s Academy Awards received low ratings (Shout out to Alejandro G. Iñárritu and Emmanuel Lubezki for winning Oscars yet again, though!) What I’m ultimately trying to say is, representation is fantastic and should always be strived for. A hispanic Starfighter pilot who befriends a black Stormtrooper?! An Indian-American family depicted in a Pixar short?! Whoever thinks people of color lessen viewership in mainstream media are severely mistaken and need to get with the program, pronto.
Screenqueens is a blog created and written by young women and members of the LGBT community. It is a safe space to critically discuss film & TV old and new, with a strong focus on the exposure of women-centric and women-made films. http://screenqueens.wordpress.com/ Twitter: @screenqueenz 8tracks: @screenqueens To request a PDF of this zine or for any inquiries: girlsonfilm@outlook.com
Cover art by Charlotte Southall.