MaryAnn Johanson

Posted on May 6, 2009 at 8:00 am

The Alliance of Women Film Journalists has an excellent website that this week includes a very thoughtful essay by MaryAnn Johanson about the week in media.

It’s mostly a testosterone fest at the multiplex this weekend, with “X-Men Origins: Wolverine” slashing its way into theaters and sure to be a huge hit. Girls who like boys will appreciate all the Hugh Jackman beefcake on display, of course, but girls who want to see stories about girls will be disappointed…though the film does feature Lynn Collins in a smallish role as the woman Logan (aka Wolverine) loved and lost. I was astonished by her Portia in 2004’s big-screen “Merchant of Venice,” and continue to hope that she will one day headline her own film, instead of playing second fiddle to the boys.

You might think that “Ghosts of Girlfriends Past” would feature some kick-ass women — perhaps one or two who’d actually kick Matthew McConaughey’s ass for being such a meatheaded manwhore — but no: they’re all simpering crybabies to a one, overemotional dunderheads simply incapable of not falling in love with him after 10 seconds of the blatant propositioning that he thinks is seductive and flirtatious. If McConaughey’s playboy had gone through as many women as we’re supposed to accept he has, he should have run into one or
two who were as rapacious and as uninterested in any kind of relationship beyond a sexual one as he is. But doncha know, all women feel exactly the same way about love and sex!

The only female of any prominence this weekend is the teenaged alien Mala of the animated “Battle for Terra.” Voiced by Evan Rachel Wood, she is spunky and adventurous and actually gets to save her world. Of course, she’s a cartoon, but I guess we can’t have everything.

I loved the quote Johanson found from one of my favorite actresses, Juliet Stevenson (Kiera Knightly’s mother in Bend It Like Beckham and the grief-struck widow in Truly Madly Deeply), from an interview in The Telegraph. She speaks about the difficulties of finding a role as a mature actress in a world looking for babes.

“It is intensely frustrating.” There is a jagged edge to the famously honeyed larynx. “The longer you live, the more interesting life gets, and yet many of the parts involve carrying trays and putting lamb chops down in front of the leading man.”

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Susan Boyle — What Captivates Us?

Posted on April 21, 2009 at 6:00 pm

Susan Boyle, the middle-aged Scottish youngest of nine, who does not have a job and spent most of her adult years caring for her late mother, sang on a television show last week and has now become a worldwide phenomenon. She does not have a computer and had never heard of YouTube, but her video clip on that site has been watched more than 37 million times. And now she even has a fan page.
She has a lovely, clear voice. And the song she sang, “I Dreamed a Dream” from “Les Miserables,” seemed to define the moment, filled with hope and longing in spite of all obstacles. But what has made her a sensation is the overall surprise of her. My favorite part of the video clip is when the three judges admit that they had judged her based on her sensible shoes, thick brows, and general country bumpkin aura. (Simon pretends that he knew all along she was going to blow everyone away but even he is almost undone by her.)
We all love underdog stories. I think the reason we love Susan Boyle and weep at her performance is not that she surprised us as much as that we would all love to have that moment of triumph over expectations, of being seen for what is most special about us.
Now, inevitably, there is the debate about whether she should change. I imagine the women’s magazines are going crazy right now, their tweezers and highlight foil shaking in their hands, perishing to do a makeover.
The Washington Post’s Robin Givhan says she needs one.

Now that Boyle has become famous — and her fame portends a financial windfall for someone, if not her — the decision is no longer merely a reflection of her desires. Indeed, the wrong decision has the capacity to unravel the centuries-long tradition of fairy tales. In other words, of course Susan Boyle should have a makeover. Isn’t that why fairy godmothers were created?

I usually agree with Givhan, who I think is brilliant about fashion, culture, and semiotics. But this time I am not so sure. She is quick to reassure us that she does not mean Nip/Tuck and Botox.

Boyle, who steps into the spotlight, tweaks our cultural ambivalence about appearance, and wows folks with her talent. And the public flat out goes nuts. Bonkers. People got teary-eyed and goose-pimpled. Boyle would not be mesmerizing if she were not an ugly duckling. Her success is fueled by the fact that everyone assumed she was going to be a loser because she looked like the standard version of one as defined by the collective archives of movies, TV and literature.

Boyle beat the system that rewards the drop-dead gorgeous 10s and ignores the 3s and 4s. And people love her for that. Her rough-cut curls and sensible shoes make them feel virtuous. If she should decide to take designers up on their offer of free flattering frocks, avail herself of a smart new haircut and vigorous eyebrow arching, would she ruin the fun being had by her millions of fans?

The point of a proper makeover, however, is not to look like someone else but the best version of yourself. This is not a recommendation for an “Extreme Makeover,” but rather the Tim Gunn or “What Not to Wear” version. Those are the kind of transformations in which the recipients spend a little time figuring out precisely why they’ve been squeamish about trying to achieve their personal best.

I have no problem saying that this is Susan Boyle’s personal best and that her apparent comfort with herself as she is (did she actually plaster the contestant’s sticker on her chest?) is as appealing as her singing. If the audience thinks of Susan Boyle as an ugly duckling, it isn’t she who needs a makeover. It is us.

Disney’s First African-American Princess

Posted on April 21, 2009 at 10:00 am

The Disney Princesses, each the star of her own movie, are now a team and something of a marketing juggernaut. They have transcended their individual stories and now appear together in a wide range of merchandise. And now Snow White (born a princess and married to a prince), Cinderella (married a prince), Little Mermaid Ariel (born a princess and married a prince), Belle (married a prince), and Sleeping Beauty (born a princess and married to a prince) will be joined by the first African-American princess, Tiana.

Disney has had non-white female lead characters before — Mulan (not a princess or married to a prince), Jasmine (born a princess), and Pocahontas (a Native American equivalent to a princess). But Tiana is the first African-American to star in her own fairy tale movie, based on a combination of a traditional story, a recent novel, and Disney’s own magical transformation. According to The Washington Post’s Neely Tucker,

It draws inspiration from an 18th-century fairy tale from the British Isles, and “The Frog Princess,” a 2002 teen novel from Maryland writer E.D. Baker. Disney transferred the story to 1920s New Orleans and changed her name, race and almost everything else.

In the Disney version, Tiana is a young waitress and talented chef who dreams, like her father, of owning her own restaurant. She eventually kisses a frog and is transformed into one. She must journey into the dark bayou to get a magical cure from a good voodoo queen. She is aided by a goofy firefly and a trumpet-playing alligator. The frog turns out to be handsome Prince Naveen, from the far-off and fictional land of Maldonia.

The stills released by the studio show Tiana in full princess regalia: a powder-blue gown, tiara and hair in an elegant upsweep.

Tony Award winner Anika Noni Rose voices Tiana. Other parts are played by Oprah Winfrey, John Goodman, Terrence Howard and Keith David. The music is by Oscar winner (and New Orleans veteran) Randy Newman. It is directed by Ron Clements and John Musker, the same team behind “Aladdin” and “The Little Mermaid.”

Tucker writes about the sensitivity involved in this image, as have all of the Disney heroines, which have been criticized for ethnic and gender concerns. At one time, he writes, the character was called Maddy, short for Madeline, but it sounded too much like “a slave name.” The love interest is of indeterminate race.

Prince Naveen, for the record, is neither white nor black, but portrayed with olive skin, dark hair and, need we state the obvious, a strong chin. The actor who plays him, Bruno Campos, hails from Brazil.

Tiana is a fantasy figure and so it is not surprising that she fits an idealized and doll-friendly image. But we have come a long way from the racially insensitive images in past films like “Dumbo,” “Peter Pan,” and “Song of the South.” I appreciate the care and yes, love, that have gone into creating this character and I am really pleased to have what appears to be a very strong and beautiful role model added to the princess line-up.

Is there a Date Rape Joke in ‘Observe and Report?’

Posted on April 12, 2009 at 1:00 pm

Observe and Report is a bleak, harsh, disturbing, violent, and transgressive movie about a mall security guard who is often delusional. Billed as a comedy, it has some funny moments, though most of the laughs come from outrageousness rather than wit. While on this site the comments have mostly focused on the nudity in the film (extended and very explicit footage of a male flasher), elsewhere there has been a lot of focus on another issue.
In the midst of a frankly and unabashedly offensive film, one moment has attracted a lot of attention. Ronnie, the movie’s leading character has gone on what he thinks of as a date with Brandi, a woman who works at a department store cosmetic counter at the mall. She thinks of it less as a date than as a free meal, and she quickly gets high on alcohol and his prescription medication. By the time he takes her home, she is close to unconscious. At her doorway, she throws up and he declares passionately, “I accept you” and kisses her. Cut to the two of them having sex. She has apparently passed out. He hesitates, and without moving, she (with strong profanity) urges him to continue. Does this, as some people say, make the sex consensual? Or, given how impaired the character is, can there be such a thing as consent? Is this scene so much more offensive than the rest of the film, which includes extreme, graphic, gratuitous and consequenceless violence and a substance-abusing mother whose biggest laugh line may be when she casually confides that she used to sleep with all her son’s friends in high school?
The members of the Association of Women Film Journalists have an online discussion about whether this scene is a date rape joke. Katey Rich of Cinemablend says:
Is date rape funny? Of course not. But Observe and Report is a movie that gets laughs when its main character hits children, does heavy drugs, makes racist jabs and shoots a harmless man in the chest at point blank range. The date rape scene is just one of many, many awful things that Ronnie does, and the scene is so powerful and, yes, funny, because it’s such a huge moment of crossing the line.
I do worry that people will see the movie and think “Oh, she’s giving consent, it’s fine!” But I don’t think that’s the point- Jody Hill and Seth Rogen are making a satire about American masculinity and specifically about this deranged character, and they don’t support half of what he does.

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What Does the Editor Do?

Posted on April 11, 2009 at 8:00 am

Ann Hornaday has a fascinating article in the Washington Post about the impact that an editor has on a film. You’ve heard the expression “the cutting room floor?” That comes from the days when film editors used real scissors and worked with the director to decide what scenes made it into the film and which were literally cut out.

But the editor does a lot more than determine which of several different takes will go into the final film. The editor shapes the story and gives it its rhythm and tone. The editor is the one who remembers what the audience knows and does not know. Hornaday writes about the way that editors inserted crucial information to help audiences follow the story that would not even register if you asked them afterward. Indeed, while some editing is flashy, even intrusive, the best editing registers only subliminally.

When Julia Roberts is trying to steal a top-secret medical formula in the crafty, corporate-espionage caper “Duplicity,” the audience needs to know why she’s suddenly on a different floor of a warrenlike office building. Hence, a brief shot of her running down some stairs.

That shot was requested by the film’s editor, John Gilroy, who also edited “Michael Clayton” (both films were written and directed by his brother Tony). It’s not uncommon, he says, for him to request certain scenes in the course of filming. “We’re always finding out what we need, and sort of embellishing and embroidering as we go along.”

What makes this article worthwhile is the specific examples, from legendary movie moments like the bravura single shot swooping into the nightclub in “Goodfellas” to the small, unobtrusive techniques that are as essential to movie story-telling as the performances and the script. The technology has transformed editing and scissors have given way to computers. But whether we notice the cuts or not, the role of the editor continues to be one of the most important and understanding what a difference that makes enriches our appreciation of film.

Those who want to learn more about the art of movie editing should read When The Shooting Stops … The Cutting Begins: A Film Editor’s Story by Ralph Rosenblum, a superb book with an illuminating discussion of how “Annie Hall’s” out-of-order structure made it so poignant and powerful.