Anne Hathaway by Anthony Harvey/Shutterstock & Michaela Coel By Fred Duval/Shutterstock
There are some things you know instinctively: when to avoid an empty subway car, when to cut a toxic person right out of your life, and when you’ve decided to adopt a movie as your entire personality before you’ve even seen it.
The latter, I sensed about Tar. I know it about the forthcoming Barbie film. And now, I’m sure about the recently announced film, Mother Mary, starring Anne Hathaway and Michaela Coel.
A24’s upcoming feature film was just announced and they’re not sharing very much. But what they have revealed has us on the edge of our seats yearning for a film that hasn’t even started shooting yet. Picture me – like Nicole Kidman in that AMC ad — staring at the screen in awe, practically drooling. I don’t know what awaits me, but I’m certain it will change me.
via AMC
Here’s what we know so far:
The plot: The film has been described as “an epic pop melodrama following a fictional musician (Hathaway) and her relationship with an iconic fashion designer (Coel).” I have no clue what this could mean but I’m already on my knees, begging for more. Will it be a fun, lighthearted blockbuster like the underrated Tracee Ellis Ross x Dakota Johnson feature, The High Note (2020)? Or will it be a tortured portrait of an artist and their muse? Most importantly … will it be sapphic? These are the questions, people!
The screenplay was written by David Lowery, director and frequent A24 collaborator behind The Green Knight and A Ghost Story. He also recently wrote and directed Disney+’s forthcoming Peter Pan & Wendy. His repertoire’s mixed bag makes me curious about the tone of Mother Mary, and what will come of this high-budget experiment.
The music: As an “epic pop melodrama,” it seems obvious that the music of the film will be critical. Which explains why Jack Antonoff and Charli XCX — two of the hottest names in pop music — have been tapped to pen its pop hits. I see Oscar noms for Best Original Song in their future.
None
— (@)
Rightfully so, the internet is freaking out. A cry of “mother!” was heard around the world when this announcement dropped. I mean, the word “mother” is literally in the title.
None
— (@)
I, for one, am so excited to see both Coel and Hathaway return to campy, energetic roles — this after being immersed in dramatic films for the past few years.
Hathaway was most recently in Eileen, a psychological thriller based on Ottessa Mosfegh’s novel of the same title. And then there’s Mother’s Instinct alongside Jessica Chastain and The Idea of You on Amazon.
Coel is best known for her intense drama — I May Destroy You — as well as her role in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. But I adored Coel singing and dancing in the British indie film Been So Long — so I hope we get to hear her voice in this film, too.
Whatever they give us, I’ll eat it up. Mother Mary is slated to begin filming in Germany this year — and it can’t come soon enough.
Bella Hadid attending the Vivienne Westwood show during PFW Womenswear Fall/Winter 22/23 in Paris, France on March 5, 2022.
Reynaud Julien/APS-Medias/ABACA/Shutterstock
If you don’t know who Ramy Youssef is, you should. To be honest, I envy you — oh, what I’d do to watch his eponymous Hulu show — Ramy — for the first time again.
If you’re asking yourself, “who is this guy, and why should I care?” binge-watch the Hulu show. Then fall down the rabbit hole of his 2020 award show press interviews. Then you’ll totally understand how smart and endearing Youssef is in real life — as opposed to his soft boy character in the show. Trust me, you’ll instantly get why he deserved that 2020 Golden Globe. You’ll wonder how you were so late to the party. Then, you — like me — will start counting down the days until the new season of Ramy on September 30th.
A season that features the acting debut of none other than THE biggest supermodel in the world right now, Bella Hadid.
At this point, it’s a prerequisite that all models turn to actors. For example, EmRata’s multi-hyphenate status includes several acting credits. Half the cast of Euphoria, had never acted before starring in the HBO superhit. And Evan Mock going from skateboarder to model to the star of Gossip Girl is proof that pretty people can have it all.
Bella’s foray into acting does not surprise me. “People probably thought,” Bella Hadid told GQ, “that my first acting job would be something super sensual and sexy.”
As if the promise of the long-awaited Ramy season three isn’t enough, now there’s more to be excited about. I’m a fashion-obsessed Gen-Zer. So, of course, I love Bella Hadid. She’s one of my favorite Nepotism Babies. Because what’s not to love?
Despite her life being astronomically different from mine — she’s a supermodel from a wealthy family who lives an unfathomable luxe lifestyle — somehow, she feels super relatable. Bella’s not only one of the most trendsetting fashion girlies, she’s a businesswoman who has made vulnerability part of her brand. From speaking candidly about her mental health to her history with eating disorders, Bella seems down to earth.
She’s also an outspoken activist. As a Palestinian, Bella frequently speaks out about the atrocities in her home country. This is where she and Ramy found a point of connection.
Ramy’s hit show explores the struggles of being Muslim-American. Especially when you don’t relate to some traditional aspects of your upbringing yet still feel isolated in America. Hadid may be a global celebrity, but this is a game she knows well.
Being on set, Hadid gushed about how accepted she felt. “Growing up and being Arab, it was the first time that I’d ever been with like-minded people. I was able to see myself.”
The two met after Ramy emailed Hadid about a possible appearance on the show. After their first conversation, Hadid describes their friendship as kismet. I guess that’s how it is for celebrities. I mean, if I tied to track down Timothee Chalamet’s email to see if he wanted to hang out … suddenly I’d be a stalker. Sigh. The double standards of fame.
But really, I’m thrilled at this friendship hard launch. And fame, it seems — specifically the misconceptions that come with it — is yet another thing the pair have in common.
"It’s just an armor.”
Part of what makes the show Ramy so compelling is its problematic title character. Quite frankly, he sucks. But we love to root for a complicated protagonist. Case in point: Carmy inThe Bear, my other favorite Hulu show. But that doesn’t reflect the real life version of Youssef. “You pick the worst side of you because then the people you meet are like, ‘Oh, you’re so much better than I expected!’ As opposed to the other way around,” he told GQ. “It’s all upside, really. You gotta undersell hard.”
Bella also deals with misconceptions. But hers are based on model stereotypes. And partly the persona she dons to protect herself from the harsh light of the public eye.“People will meet me and think, Oh, I thought you were a bitch. Or I thought you were mean. [They assume] I’m this other person. I’m like, this other person that you saw on a magazine cover: no soul, no nothing? It’s just an armor.”
But with Youssef, Hadid can let her guard down. Together, the two were able to create what promises to be a delightful episode that explores multiple sides of their personas and actual personalities.
I can’t wait for their episode to air so I can really get to “know” Ramy and Bella. In fact, I’m already fascinated with this surprising friendship. And if it comes with the promise of a new season of one of the best shows on television? If they want to expand to a trio, I’m waiting.
In 2022’s
Scream — the fifth installment of the meta slasher franchise — the new killer, like all the predecessors, likes to play with his food before eating it. As a throwback to 1996's Scream, he primes his target victim by asking her about her favorite horror movies.
For any horror fan, it’s a bit of a dream. Sure, I’ll talk to anyone who will listen about
Halloween or Friday the 13th for hours, but the lead actress isn’t the biggest fan of the horror classics that dominated the conversations in earlier films.
“Scary but with complex emotional and thematic underpinnings” sans the “schlocky cheeseball nonsense with wall-to-wall jump scares” is how Tara Carpenter describes it, before getting stabbed multiple times by a guy in a mask.
The term first landed on Google Trends in 2008, but didn’t gain traction as a phrase until 2014, the same year
The Babadook premiered.
It’s been used by critics and fans alike to describe some of the slow-burn, metaphor-laden horror stories that dominated the 2010’s.
2015’s
The Witch, takes place in 1630’s New England and features dialogue lifted directly from journals, diaries, and court records from the time period. Most notably horrific moments pepper the first and second act, but the slow, methodical plod of the movie along with the historic dialogue demand more patience from the viewer. The Rotten Tomatoes Critics Score of 90% and the Audience Score of 59% posit that the film demands too much patience for some.
Both of these films were put out by the independent distribution company, A24; a company known for its focus on the horror genre, as well as genre-bending films from the Daniels and Oscar favorites like
Lady Bird and Moonlight.
Elevated horror is nearly synonymous with A24 Horror, thanks to the rest of the films on their 2010’s roster.
Saint Maud, The Lighthouse, Midsommar, Hereditary, and The Killing of a Sacred Deer are all considered elevated horror.
Elevated From What
2014’s
It Follows, The Babadook, and Goodnight Mommy were perhaps a relief from the visceral torture porn of the 2000’s. Saw (2004), Hostel (2005), and The Human Centipede (2009) all feature graphic sadistic violence, guts, and gore not merely as a side effect, but as a plot point.
From the early to mid-2000’s, horror’s obsession with torture coincided with mainstream culture’s conversation around torture — capturing the conspirators behind the September 11 attacks dominated the news. 2005’s dawn of YouTube also meant anyone with computer access and a curious mind could stumble upon real life horrors, including everything from snipers and testimony from political prisoners to the infamous 2 Girls 1 Cup.
Pre-2010’s
Although some critics bemoan the recent explosion of elevated horror, others aim to retrofit horror classics like
Psycho (1960) and The Shining (1980) as part of the genre.
Carol J. Clover, writer of
Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film notes in her 1992 novel that one reviewer marked 1991’s Oscar-winning The Silence of the Lambs as “Nightmare on Elm Street for grad students.”
Elevated horror became a phrase recently, but it’s
always been around. 1968’s Rosemary’s Baby is a slow-burn meditation on motherhood. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein from two centuries ago deals with complex themes of birth and creation.
Horror has never been viewed as high-brow films even with “serious actors” and “esteemed directors” — it doesn't bother most fans of the genre.
(Notable exception: The internet’s collective horror at Toni Collette’s Oscar snub for Best Actress in
Hereditary.)
What’s Wrong With Cheeseball Nonsense?
Bitch Media’s Britt Ashley wrote of The Witch, “Like any good horror film, The Witch is rife with opportunity for allegorical interpretation, and one of the most compelling narratives bubbling beneath the surface is the origin story of America itself.”
Not every movie needs to be an “opportunity for allegorical interpretation”…but aren’t they all?
Friday The 13th Part III is a prime example of the schlock nonsense Tara hates. It’s known for its incredibly dated 3D gags and a hockey mask rather than its compelling cultural narrative.
Horror is in continual dialogue with what’s bubbling just under the surface of society. And just because it’s unintentional or cut with eye-popping deaths and the worst acting you’ve ever seen doesn’t mean it isn’t damn fine horror.
What Will Define The 2020’s
Horror has
always had complex emotional and thematic underpinnings. In a genre where watching people die is the point of buying a ticket, how can horror not be about grief?
The violent torture porn of the 2000's sired the elevated horror of the 2010’s. And now the 2020s' pendulum is swinging in a different direction, from minimalism to maximalism.
If the recent 192-minute science fiction comedy action fantasy phenomenon of a film
Everything Everywhere All At Once — with its 90%+ Critic and Audience RT scores — is a harbinger of what’s to come, we’ve got chaos ahead.
Think not just werewolves, but
telekinetic vampire werewolves. During a blizzard. Plus aliens. A worldwide pandemic, a global war, and the repeal of Roe V. Wade are all possible in our lifetimes — why not everything else we’ve ever feared, all at once?
The app, TikTok, is already a melting pot of content genres. You can watch a cheesy pasta tutorial immediately followed by a healthcare worker discussing assisted suicide before a viral dance to a remixed ‘90’s hit song with text statistics about income inequality worse than the Great Depression. With
more than a 1 billion users — most of them Gen Z and millennials — it’s safe to say we’re getting comfortable with the pandemonium and the whiplash.
Millennials are now of age to climb the Hollywood horror ladder to become the masters of horror — most ascending from a culture where we’re constantly aware that we can’t afford to own our own homes. After all, you can’t have a haunted house story without a home.
But you can have telekinetic vampire werewolves; what could be more 2020’s than that?
In normal years, summer is the season reserved for blockbusters and big title releases from major studios. However, the past few years have been far from normal years.
After March 2020 sent the world into lockdown, theaters were closed for close to 18 months and the moviegoing experience has not yet recovered. Streaming — with its killer combination of convenience and the emerging high-quality of its original content — was already poised for a takeover. Streaming platforms like Netflix and HBO Max are increasingly offering hotly-anticipated titles, so who is going to pay for the cinema and all its trappings?
But, oh, was it grand to have the option. When going to the movies was suddenly impossible … it was all we wanted.
Though I consider myself a fan of the theatre experience, I've been known to watch a movie on my computer instead of the big screen when released on the same day.
However, having the choice stripped from me during the pandemic, I longed for the movie-going experience like never before. Both movie fans and movie makers have been itching for a return to the cinema. Many big studios held back their highly-anticipated films for when viewers had the choice to see them as intended.
This meant that, with greater and greater vaccination counts, movie rollouts are following a new schedule. Thus, the end of the year will be blockbusters galore!
So far, the final quarter of 2021 has seen such mammoth releases as Dune, Eternals, Shang-Chi, The French Dispatch, and more. The remainder of the year promises a similar variety of high-budget movies and indies across streaming and cinematic screens, all with eager anticipation building behind them.
Here are some of our most exciting picks:
King Richard
It is a rare living athlete who can reach the same level of influence as the Williams sisters, Venus and Serena. And fewer still have movies made about them while they're still alive. King Richard is as much an ode to their prodigious talents as it is to the man who nurtured them. Will Smith plays the tennis stars' father Richard Williams in this depiction of the tennis stars while they were still children. It's not just a sports movie, but also an exploration of race, perseverance, and family.
It's out November 19 in theaters and on HBO Max.
C’mon C’mon
For indie lovers, C'mon C'mon will satiate your hunger for a long awaited new Mike Mills film. Mills — the director behind cult classics such as Beginners and 20th Century Women — is known for creating family narratives that explore relationships, time, and memory. C'mon C'mon promises to do the same. Joaquin Phoenix takes off the Joker makeup to play a man unexpectedly burdened with caring for his young nephew.
Together, they form a beautiful, transcendent bond — but how? You'll have to wait until November 19th when it is released.
House of Gucci
Lady Gaga. Adam Driver. Knit sweaters. Need we say more? Okay, we will. Since it started filming, we've been on the edge of our seats over this film. That's basically due our having been fed a steady diet of on-set paparazzi pics and teaser trailers — including the now-iconic clip of Lady Gaga stirring a visibly empty espresso cup. Oh, the pleasures of movie magic. Now, the official trailer is finally out and the full feature is soon to follow on November 24. Until then, we'll read all about how Lady Gaga perfected the accent and rewatch A Star is Born until we have another feature film to devour.
Spiderman: No Way Home
It's almost here! Finally! After the last Spiderman film Spiderman: Far From Home's cliffhanger — rivaled only by Avengers: Infinity War — and pandemic delays forced us to wait foreverrr for its resolution. But the wait will come to an end on December 17th. Here's what we know so far: the new film explores the idea of the multiverse — just like the animated Into the Spiderverse did previously. What this means for us: our favorite Spidermen come together as Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield, and other vintage villains all pop up in this can't-miss adventure.
The King’s Man
As much as we love a sequel, we like a prequel just as much. Kingsmen — the film series that made Taron Egerton a star — leaves behind contemporary London to explore the origins of the film's world. The King's MAn takes us to Oxford in the 1940s where Ralph Fiennes and Harris Dickinson play a father-son duo who forge the Kingsmen Agency. See you in theatres December 22!
Don’t Look Up
Every single celebrity you love is in Don't Look Up — a satire about the end of the world which might hit a little too close to home these days. The story follows Jennifer Lawrence and Leonardo DiCaprio, astronomers who discover the end of the world is approaching, as they try to get people to believe them. It doesn't go well. Despite the chilling parallels to our current apocalyptic state, we will be tuning in on December 24th to watch Lawrence and DiCaprio — joined by Timothee Chalamet, Meryl Streep, Jonah Hill, Cate Blanchett, Ariana Grande, Kid Cudi, and even more.
Licorice Pizza
Paul Thomas Anderson is back at it with the off-beat, coming-of-age, sort-of-romantic comedy Licorice Pizza. The film is this season's Lady Bird — meaning it's sure to make its unknown teen protagonists stars. It also comes right on time, as the nostalgia for the 70s hit its peak this summer and people are still fiending for that summer magic. Also: Bradley Cooper. Say less.
Cyrano
After these past few years, we deserve to feel good. Cyrano lets us finally, finally do that. On New Year's Eve, this cinematic production of one of the most iconic stories will make its way to theatres. Starring Peter Dinklage and Kelvin Harrison Jr vying for Haley Bennett's heart, this soaring romance is the perfect, hopeful story to end the year with.
Like most NYU students, Christine from Lady Bird needed therapy
It's a tale as old as time: the search for catharsis.
And since movies are the form of storytelling most apt for mindless escapism, film tropes have emerged to give us the satisfying feeling of catharsis through well-worn story structure and character formulations.
Every genre of film has seen iterations of the cathartic "hero's journey": violent blockbusters, fantasy epics, even charming indies. When executed well, you have a great film. But even a subpar movie can give that feeling of release if it follows some of the tried and true story elements — hence the endless Fast & Furious, Mission Impossible, James Bond sequels, and the like.
Most often, the exchange between tension and catharsis is played up every summer for major box office films. The majority of these star mysterious, jaded protagonists who are looking for catharsis through revenge or triumph. What draws us to these characters is often their rugged determination and their single-minded focus. These protagonists (mostly men) are often successful in their pursuits … but at what cost?
As we become more and more aware of the toxic messaging of culture and media, and more and more knowledgeable about mental health, some of the classic hero tropes are beginning to lose their aspirational luster. The proliferation of characters who are textbook definitions of toxic masculinity or male fantasies of "damaged" women no longer has the hold on us that it once had.
As filmmaking becomes more complex, different and diverse stories are making their way to the forefront, moving even mainstream movies away from contrived formulas and one-dimensional protagonists. And with increased access to and conversation about mental health, characters are getting more self-aware and films are increasingly exploring characters on journeys to catharsis through self-knowledge and therapy.
As we acclimate to a new era and move away from the overly familiar angst and aggressions of tropic protagonists, rewatching iconic films often begs the question: What if this character had just … gone to therapy?
Bruce Wayne in "Batman"
Pretty much every popular superhero should be in therapy. Most of their origin stories depend on some unresolved trauma that they work through by saving everybody else. Peter Parker feeling responsible for Uncle Ben's death? Therapy. Orphaned alien Clark Kent? Therapy. Bruce Wayne watching his parents die and inheriting billions of dollars as a kid? Therapy.
And because Bruce Wayne's origin story doesn't depend on any mutations or supernatural ability, his entire superhero persona is built out of a childhood fear of bats (more therapy) and money he could have used to fund community programs to reduce crime — someone should have given him a book on abolitionist theory, too — instead of engineering technology to fight it himself.
The Christian Bale iteration of Batman (because we don't talk about George Clooney's nipple-heavy batman suit, nor Ben Affleck's Zack Snyder version) sees the young Bruce Wayne searching for meaning and purpose in the wake of his parent's death. But instead of going on a stoic sojourn to learn hand-to-hand combat, he should have just talked to someone.
The fantasy genre is also ridden with orphaned children who turn their trauma into the pursuit for justice. The most popular example has to be Harry Potter. After a life of torment and mistreatment by his uncle and aunt, Harry gets to live out the fantasy of any neglected child: escape.
And somehow, going off to Hogwarts and coming into his parents' money seemed to solve everything for Harry — though who is going to talk about the fact that he squandered his obscene wealth on novelty candy, quidditch gear, and butterbeer while his best friend literally lived in poverty?
Sure, he endured years of abuse at home and watched some of his friends die in the war against the dark arts (RIP Cedric Diggory, Robert Pattinson's most iconic role), but everything turned out fine.
In reality, Harry's internal struggles about his parents, his childhood, and even his more Slytherin side could have been a lot less emotionally taxing if he had gone to therapy. And maybe he wouldn't have ended up becoming the magic world's equivalent of a cop, either.
The Narrator in "Fight Club"
The narrator in Fight Club is famously suffering from insomnia and probably anxiety from his dissatisfaction with his life — so much so that he lives in a disembodied state and creates an imagined version of himself. And though he seeks out sleeping medication and support groups, his unexamined life is the cause of his extreme dissociation.
Though he blames the monotomy of consumerist society (and he does makes some points, hence the cultish following the book and film have both garnered), looking for meaning through physical violence and hyper masculine aggression is not the answer — which was, in fairness, Chuck Palahniuk's point.
And while the narrator has a revelation about his mental state at the end, he never truly comes to terms with the deep-seated emotional unrest that started him on his downward path. He's a prime candidate for therapy, and so is every member of the fight club, as well as anyone in real life who tells you it's their favorite book and film for any reason other than Brad Pitt circa 1999. That's a cry for help.
Cliff Booth in "Once Upon a Time In ... Hollywood"
Speaking of Brad Pitt, he was undoubtedly the highlight of Quentin Tarantino's 2019 Once Upon a Time in … Hollywood. The film, a love letter to Hollywood and the '70s, starred Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt as an actor-stunt double duo, a combination which made for a glorious press tour and an even more glorious award season filled with Brad Pitt acceptance speeches that felt like a Mr. Congeniality tour, and we were here for it.
But, like any Tarantino production, Once Upon a Time in … Hollywood was deeply flawed. The classic Tarantino revenge fantasy played out a version of the '70s in which the Manson murder of Sharon Tate never happened becuase it was stopped in its tracks by Leo and Brad's characters. But despite the retributive ending, Brad's character, Cliff Booth, had a lot to answer for.
The repressed violence which he unleashed on the would-be murderers is moralized by his righteous victory but is more sinister than the resolution makes it seem. A key, but under discussed character point is that Booth was rumored to have killed his wife for being … annoying? There is also a scene in which he attacks a fictionalized, highly stereotyped version of Bruce Lee while on set … also for being annoying.
And while all is well that ends well for Cliff Booth, we could have done without the problematic violence that was one of the baselines of his character. Or, at the very least, he could have done with some therapy.
Barry Egan in "Punch Drunk Love"
Adam Sandler might be known for his goofy slapstick comedy, but his most celebrated roles are those in which he plays neurotic, anxious characters who get themselves into more trouble than they need to.
Most recently, 2019's Uncut Gems sees Sandler as a self-sabotaging jewelry merchant who comes into some luck and quickly loses it. But the precursor to this role is his role in Paul Thomas Anderson's Punk Drunk Love. Sandler plays Barry Egan, an anxious, shy man who is prone to the occasional violent outburst.
The movie follows Barry as he tries to pursue love while the pressure mounts from all sides — his overbearing family, his job, an extortionist, his own internal monologue. Egan's actions push him further and further into a spiral which could have been alleviated had he just gone to therapy, from finding the confidence to pursue his love interest to dealing with the pressures of his work and his family to addressing his violent bursts and self-criticism.
The Entirety of "The Breakfast Club"
Nothing has come close to capturing the suburban teen mood as well as the cultish charms of John Hughes films in the 80s. And while time has illuminated the way in which they were problematic and exclusive, they still have an appeal to even teenagers now.
What has kept them transcendent is their focus on teen anxieties, which make young people feel, in some ways, understood. The Breakfast Club is undoubtedly John Hughes's magnum opus for its timelessness. In a way, the characters act out a version of a support group and group therapy, finding catharsis through sitting on the library floor, talking out their feelings and writing a manifesto for the ages.
It's comforting, especially when you watch and marvel at The Breakfast Club for the first time as a trembling ball of teenage need, to think that you can confess all your secrets to a group of friends and suddenly be healed. Unfortunately, this is not the case.
Though they practice some of the pillars of therapy, talking about their lives, thoughts, feelings, and upbringings, each of the characters is a prime candidate for actual therapy, more than a moment of tenderness with a group of strangers can provide.
Jamie Rellis in "Friends with Benefits"
It's not just men that are thrust into tropes that think "complexity" is interchangeable with "emotionally stunted, repressed, and in desperate need of professional guidance." However, women are usually portrayed this way by men who don't give them the same agency as their male counterparts. Instead of the rescuer, they're the rescued. Instead of powerful and calculating, they're seen as heartless and unlovable — until they can finally open up again for the right man.
A lot of the time, this is the formula for romantic comedies in which stressed out, career-obsessed women need only one thing to solve their problems: a man. Even in self-aware romantic comedies which try to subvert the genre fall into the same trap. In Friends with Benefits, Mila Kunis plays Jamie Rellis, a fast-talking, brusk New Yorker who wants love but settles for an entanglement with J*stin T*mberlake's character, Dylan.
Jamie is supposed to be "not like other girls" because she's "realistic" about love, despite being a romantic at heart … which scares potential partners away. But her backstory, which is dropped into the film during conversation to establish her character without doing any of the work, reveals that she still hasn't processed her childhood trauma — an absent father, an unreliable mother, an unstable living situation.
But all of these details are just fodder for her quirkiness, and despite the ways they come up in her life and continually leave her disappointed, they are never addressed beyond her search for romance. Like most romantic comedies, what eventually completes Jamie is, you guessed it, love and grand gestures.
The romantic-comedy industrial complex has primed so many of us to think of relationships as the solutions to our problems, and that the "right person" will either accept us as we are or fix us. But bringing trauma into relationships will never end well, no matter what the end of Friends with Benefits tells you.
Every Manic Pixie Dream Girl Ever
Perhaps the most ubiquitous therapy-ready trope that women are thrust into in films is the manic pixie dream girl who is defined as a woman who "exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures."
The term was coined in reference to Kirsten Dunst's character in Elizabethtown and is pretty much everywhere. Often, what makes these characters so quirky and full of disdain for the conventions of life is their own trauma. These women, all alone in their white girl pain (a phrase used by Safy-Hallan Farah), are defined by their own vague sadnesses, which never get the chance to be addressed because they're not the focus of the movie.
So take all the MPDGs to therapy, give them their lives back, and free them from the clutches of these boring white men — who all need therapy, too.
Amy Dunne in "Gone Girl"
In an attempt to give back female characters' agency and subvert many of the tired tropes of women, Gillian Flynn wrote Gone Girl to give women a good villain. In a 2006 essay, Flynn wrote: "I've grown quite weary of the spunky heroines, brave rape victims, soul-searching fashionistas that stock so many books … I particularly mourn the lack of female villains — good, potent female villains."
With this in mind, Gone Girl, both the book and its film adaptation, gives us Amy Dunne, who fakes her own murder and watches her husband take the blame, only to end up forced back with him when her plan backfires. The saga is no doubt entertaining, and though it has been interpretated as feminist by some and mysoginistic by others, what can not be doubted is that Amy Dunne was in need of therapy.
The seemingly perfect wife claims in the infamous "cool girl monologue" that she, as women everywhere do, tailored herself into a version of the woman her husband wanted. The cool girl trope has been endlessly used — and some say it has evolved into a version of "cool girls" on social media who exist not to satisfy the male gaze but for social validation from other "cool girls" — but if anyone is out here changing their whole personality for external approval, this is your sign to attend therapy.
And if anyone is planning to frame their husband for their murder because they found out he is cheating, also time for therapy.
Lady Bird in "Lady Bird"
An instant cult classic, 2017's Lady Bird is the journey of a '90s era high school senior trying to escape the suburbs and her life on "the wrong side of the tracks." She tries her hand at escape tactics of the imagination: reinvention through her new name, theatre, relationships, and straight out lies about her life.
But Lady Bird (nee Christine) cannot actually escape her home, her circumstances, or her tumultuous relationship with her mother. The Greta Gerwig picture is tender, emotional, and artfully complex, painting a complicated picture of a complicated life. It seems for a moment that Christine won't get the escape she wants, and she will reckon with her life in some other way, but at the last minute, she is whisked away by an acceptance to NYU and goes off to the big city.
Promptly, she becomes that kid who gets rushed off to the hospital with alcohol poisoning at her first college party. After that experience, she has an epiphany and sends a letter to her mother which hints at reconciliation. But Christine is still reconciling with so much, and her penchant for drama and avoidance of her real life really ought to be addressed beyond her nostalgia.
Lady Bird is part of the zeitgeist of women-led stories which are unflinchingly intimate with flawed, lovable characters. But some of them could be spared a world of trouble by attending therapy. Here's to hoping.
Ziwe Fumudoh's highly anticipated eponymous comedy show, Ziwe, premiered on Sunday, May 9th.
The Showtime and A24 collaboration brings the success of Ziwe's Instagram Live series, Baited, to television in a series which blends interviews with sketch comedy and musical numbers. Frankly, its so good it makes SNL all but redundant (if Elon Musk's cringey appearance as SNL host on May 8th didn't already prove that).
The show, with A24's stunning video production, ceaseless irony, and fast-paced sketches, follows in the footsteps of HBO's A Black Lady Sketch Show as part of the zeitgeist of playful commentary on race, and also takes cues from specials like the conceptual John Mulaney and the Sack Lunch Bunch and HBO's 2 Dope Queens.
ZIWE (2021) Truly Iconic 👀 Official Trailer | SHOWTIMEwww.youtube.com
What emerges is a refreshing take on late night comedy which keeps its audience guessing and never draws its segments out too long. Ziwe knows how to keep its audience wanting more, and one of my only criticisms is that there wasn't enough of it — give me longer interviews, more sketches, a full uninterrupted hour each episode. But alas, until next week we wait.
From the second the show starts, Ziwe drops pop culture references — for example, the theme song feels like a mix of The Nanny, The Proud Family and Lizzie Maguire theme sequences — without losing sight of her unique brand. Ziwe's approachable millennial pink aesthetic and trademark grin balance the hard hitting questions and complicated themes. For example: white women.
Episode 1 was titled "55%," after the percentage of white women who voted for Tr*mp in the 2020 election. To tackle this issue, Ziwe interviewed "iconic" white women Gloria Steinem and Fran Lebowitz.
Between interviews, Ziwe performs songs like "Lisa Called the Cops on Black People" and cuts to a sketch which imagines a version of American Girl dolls which includes a doll that comes with a copy of White Fragility and a key to a condo in a Black neighborhood that her republican parents are paying for. This dynamic format supplements her signature conversational style and shows her range and performance acumen. Not many people could translate this well on television, but Ziwe surpasses all expectations.
Despite the increased scale and budget of her show, Ziwe has not switched up – asking the same baiting questions that led to her quarantine fame, but this time to bigger names than like … Caroline Calloway. Her exchange with Fran makes me cringe in delight as the "famously" no-nonsense humorist attempts to understand what she had gotten herself into.
"That's a real question?" Fran responds to being asked whether slow walkers bother her more than racism, but Ziwe puts the pressure on while also maintaining a sense of levity. As an interviewer, her strengths are in, yes, asking impossible questions, but mostly in not taking herself too seriously.
You can imagine a Red Table Talk version of this where everything is asked in earnest, but Ziwe is taking the opposite approach, finding comedy in other people's discomfort. She's at her best when she just lets her guests talk, encouraging them to say what they might otherwise be afraid to and letting them incriminate themselves.
This was on full display in one of the funniest sections of the show: the Karen Convention.
'Karen Convention' Ep. 1 Official Clip | ZIWE | SHOWTIMEwww.youtube.com
In response to the pejorative use of the name "Karen," popularized after the influx of white women calling the police on Black people minding their business, Ziwe calls upon a panel of experts: white women named Karen.
This group of random white women had a lot to say. With a little guidance from Ziwe, who never corrects or interrogates them but instead urges them on, the Karens air out their grievances — and they have many.
"Yes, I've called the manager," one of them reveals, but she follows it up with the fact that sometimes she calls the manager on waitstaff, makes them sweat it out in fear, only to offer her compliments — so all is well! Another reveals that after the Amy Cooper scandal she thought she was finally free and obnoxious white women would all be called "Amys," but no such luck.
"I have a couple of good friends named Amy," another Karen chimes in response. After a small tete a tete, one of the Karens poses the theory that the term might be racist, and another points out that "we all came from Africa". Through all this, Ziwe just nods and encourages them along, letting them get more and more impassioned by their opportunity to finally talk about it.
Ziwe's genius is trusting the audience to pick out the flaws of their argument — and if you can't, you're not her audience. She cultivates a desire to want to be accepted into the club of her comedy, turning representation on its head.
After decades of mainstream television in which the assumed audience is a white one, Ziwe makes white audiences work to push past their discomfort at seeing themselves on screen in unflattering ways.
To watch as a Black woman is to feel vindicated by the character Ziwe portrays herself as, to revel in the hilarity of the questions I wish I could ask people I know. To be a white woman, a target of this episode (even if you're the 45% who didn't vote for Trump), is to wonder what would I have said?
By reveling in the chaos she creates, Ziwe is in total control of her interviewees and her audience, changing the game of late night television and giving us hope for the future of comedy.
via AMC
