Monday, February 25, 2019

"It Wasn't Made For Them"

For whatever else, Brie Larson has certainly generated online chatter lately, and Captain Marvel looks to be the latest cultural battle over aggressive feminism in film since Ghostbusters 3. Projections alternate between Captain Marvel making over one hundred billion dollars or a mere ten cents,  and its success or failure has eclipsed the discussion about the rather dull character who has never quite resonated, either as a female or as Mar-vell.

Where the numbers ultimately fall will be revealed in a few weeks, but what can be said is Brie Larson's comments haven't helped the movie much, even if they may not hurt the film as much as many say they should. Much of what she has said has already been parsed, and condemned, for its racism and sexism:

"I don’t need a 40-year-old white dude to tell me what didn’t work about A Wrinkle in Time. It wasn’t made for him! I want to know what it meant to women of color, biracial women, to teen women of color..."

Most people have focused on her statement that white males have no valid opinion on films, which is understandable, but as is typical with people of Brie Larson's political persuasion there are layers of faulty premises in her reasoning, which have inadvertently been conceded as fact. Namely, there has been a concession on the point of a Wrinkle in Time itself, as if the story is only for women of color.

As it happens, I am a white man in my 40s. But once upon a time, I was ten. And when I was ten, my fourth grade teacher decided to read a book to the class with an odd green centaur-man with wings instead of arms on the cover. That book was a Wrinkle in Time. And the entire class - boys and girls - listened to it for an hour at lunch every day, discussing the book and eager to hear what the next day would bring (or as eager as fourth graders ever can be).


Several years ago, when a friend (a white male then in his 40s) lamented there was no science fiction that would appeal to a girl his daughter's age, I suggested a Wrinkle in Time offhandedly, saying it was fascinating and had a female protagonist. Several weeks later he thanked me, saying his daughter loved it and that he was reading the books with her and enjoying them himself, and it had been a positive moment of bonding between them. As a parent I've come to understand that any bond with your children becomes precious, so I was happy something I suggested turned out so well. (How often does that happen, after all?)

Such is my history with the book. No, it isn't some tale of life-changing events where I put down a gun I had aimed at my temple because I remembered Mrs. Whatsit. I am no scholar on the book or on its author, just an aquainted and casual fan. It is a book I enjoyed, and remember fondly. I probably would have seen the 2018 film in the theater (I have watched prior adaptations) but I missed it. I can't speak to how faithful or unfaithful it was to the book. But I do feel somewhat qualified to have an opinion on its quality if I do choose to see it, and I feel qualified to venture this opinion.

If I had to guess, Madeleine L'Engel, a staunch Christian who believed in universal salvation, would be uncomfortable with the idea that her book and its message wasn't intended for a universal audience, or that some people shouldn't have opinions on it. None of the quotes I have read of hers lead me to believe that she targeted teenage girls of color specifically. She didn't avoid writing to them, but her main goal was writing for children of every race. The book has messages about the importance of love and the threat of domination, the evil which strives for absolute control of thought and purpose against the freedom to express, the love of family and the ties that bind, and of a young person's place in the world as they enter adulthood. The book, as I see it, has a message intended for all people. Doesn't it then follow that all people should have a right to comment on it?

My teacher hadn't gotten the memo that white males weren't the audience for A Wrinkle In Time, nor did I when I suggested it to a friend, nor I guess did people since its publishing in 1962, nor did the makers of earlier film adaptations. Only recently - and eleven years after the author's passing- did it suddenly become only for one group of people. And Disney is involved.

Harlan Ellison in the 1990s had an excellent diatribe about his contempt for Uncle Walt's practice of putting "Walt Disney's" before classic ideas as though they were his own, such as Walt Disney's Winnie the Pooh when the stories were written by A.A. Milne, or  Walt Disney's The Jungle Book when it was the universe of Rudyard Kipling, or...well, a million examples. I wonder if this sad part of his mixed legacy has reared its head again. I suspect that Brie Larson is only vaguely aware that the Disney film was based upon a novel. I would guess she either doesn't know or doesn't care about the work on which the movie was based, because the Disney version is what matters. Either that, or she read it and came away thinking it was about racial and gender wokeness, which I highly doubt.

In a way this is very sad, because somehow a timeless and very good story by a religious woman about love and family is now a failed Disney project associated with cultural marxism, to where the Brie Larsons of the world feel entitled to declare that it is not for one group of people or another and the rest of us just kind of accept that. How many people will pass by the book now that they assume it is some radical tract?

I reject the notion that skin color is a gating factor on whether or not an opinion is valid. What we all should strive for is to not spout off in ignorance, but to speak honestly and thoughtfully. When it comes to A Wrinkle in Time and who is 'qualified' to speak about it, I think the person who should be ignored is Brie Larson.

Thursday, February 14, 2019

Maleficent and Why It Sucks


Sleeping Beauty was Walt Disney's animated masterpiece. The designs were lavish, the score epic, and the writing crisp. The movie was the most ambitious of the Disney princess movies that Walt Disney undertook, and the last one until the Little Mermaid, made long after his death.

Though not a box office success, Sleeping Beauty is treasured as a Disney classic, and the character of Maleficent is considered arguably the best villain in Disney, inspiring later villains such as Jafar, and appearing as a major antagonist in several other Disney products.


When Disney began its craze of reimagining films as live-action adaptations, the first chosen was a new spin on the tale of Maleficent. While subsequent live action adaptations have been faithful to source material, Maleficent took what could best be described as some massive liberties.

To start, Sleeping Beauty is, of all the princess films, probably the most grounded in the medieval heritage of Europeans and European Americans. It mixes old pagan mythical concepts with subtle Christian imagery and references. The story is one of good and evil through a traditional chivalric lens. The villainous witch fights against a brave and dashing prince in the epic final minutes of the film, which is, I would argue, the greatest sequence Disney ever produced.


In the Maleficent film, the decision was made to make Maleficent the sympathetic character. Thus the focus was changed, giving us a view of Men as a force of destruction and chaos, in conflict with the honorable Fey of the woods. Maleficent's character went from being a fearsome Satan worshipping badass to some kind of Messiah guardian with long black wings who was raped by a man.

What's that about rape? Well...yes. King Stefan, now reimagined from a slightly bumbling King to some kind of crazed ambitious superbastard, befriends Maleficent and, as a price for the throne, cuts off her black wings. It's worthwhile to note here that rape literally means, "to take" and the symbolism of what this represents is obvious, as Maleficent is now damaged and incomplete. Stefan takes her wings and wins the throne. Maleficent adopts her trademark sinister mannerisms and befriends a crow, and begins plotting her revenge, setting up a retelling of the events of Sleeping Beauty with about as much love for the original as Rian Johnson showcases towards Star Wars.
So EVIL


A note about Angelina Jolie - I'm not sure that she does a particularly good job as Maleficent, but the character is so poorly adapted from the original (whom Angelina still does her best to mimic here, despite the radically different character profile) that it probably isn't fair to blame her for the movie's problems, which stem from the odd choice to inject very crass gender politics into the film.

The biggest problem the movie has is that it is correcting a problem which doesn't exist, namely the charge that the original was chauvinist, and in the process makes it worse, like giving a healthy person chemotherapy. I would argue that Sleeping Beauty is one of the most feminist and female-oriented films of the twentieth century, with a strong female villain whose gender is not her principle defining feature, and three main characters who are all women and do not conform to any of the sexy body type images which feminists are always complaining about. The movie passes the Bechdel test in numerous places. In fact, there is no scene in the film where a male character is not talking about a woman.

People often think the story is not feminist because Aurora does very little but fall asleep and wake up, but it isn't really her story. Other people claim it is about Phillip, but he doesn't even have dialogue in the latter half of the movie and is operating completely at the instruction of the Good Fairies. Phillip and Aurora are both integral to the movie (moreso than the remake), but truthfully the story is about the three Good Fairies, who showcase courage, sacrifice, flaws, and genuine love, and are the true protagonists of the film. It is their story. The ending is their triumph.

So STUPID

What happens to the Good Fairies in the Maleficent film is worse than what happens to Maleficent herself. They go from being brave and capable to being morons who can be downright nasty to Aurora (Imelda Staunton, who played Delores Umbridge, plays Flora, still in pink and with obvious callbacks to arguably the most hated character in Harry Potter).

Instead the hero of the story is the villain, attractive A-list actress Angelina Jolie, playing a 'dark' Maleficent who winds up growing close to Aurora as a surrogate mother. She not only curses the princess but also wakes her with a kiss of true love, and at the end she has wings again. It seems like the silly vanity project of an aging actor, insisting on playing Hamlet, Claudius, and Ophelia all at the same time, except my guess is this was driven by the creative team at Disney and not Angelina Jolie.

Disney seemingly has gone all-in on destroying and denigrating the concept of love at first site, describing it as nonexistent in Maleficent and stupid in the movie Frozen, so the audience of 'cool wine aunts' can nod their heads and we can all sit to be lectured about how in a world of fantasy and make believe, we can't for a moment stomach the idea that Fate exists, or that True Love exists, -or heresy of heresies- that the love between a man and a woman is special.

In all cases the film is less 'feminist' than its animated predecessor. In fact the only thing this movie does do is make men bad, and show men being harmed by exotic creatures while the audience is supposed to cheer against them. The movie doesn't uplift women -every female character is a weaker and less capable version of their animated counterpart- but it certainly does denigrate men in fairly cliche ways. Which I think says something about feminism and what its true goals are, and what truly motivates it. It also says something about the company leadership at Disney which aggressively pushing this message.

Maleficent is identity politics masquerading as a remake to push an ideology onto its audience. Sadly, we're all too familiar with this as a practice from Disney, and Maleficent 2: Mistress of Evil (what?) looks to be more of the same.