‘Barbarella’: Barbie of the Film Industry

Like spaceships? Like the idea of floating around in space? What about girls? Do you like girls? What about girls in space? Sexy girls in space? Naked girls in space? Hmm? Hmm?

The 1968 film Barbarella, directed by Roger Vadim, seems to be screaming these questions during its first scene – a strip tease in which Jane Fonda, playing Barbarella herself, awkwardly removes pieces of a clunky, futuristic space suit. Throughout its 98-minute run, the film can’t seem to decide whether it wants to be a thrilling action adventure or a porn flick.

Jane Fonda as Barbarella in the kind of clothes that any normal space adventurer would wear.

Barbarella is a sexy young space traveler from Earth who has been sent on a mission by none other than the “President of Earth.” She must save the universe’s peacefulness, and thus Earth, by defeating the evil scientist Durand-Durand. And yet, for a hero who is entrusted with saving the universe, she seems to have trouble doing anything more than getting into scrapes that result in her becoming scantily clad and sexily positioned on the floor or tied to a pole. (Each time this happens, she promptly gets rescued by a man who solicits sex as repayment for saving her. You know, just like any normal girl.)

The film redeems itself a fair amount by refusing to take itself seriously. By acknowledging its own silliness, the film allows us to laugh along with it instead of just fidgeting uncomfortably and giggling at inappropriate moments. The pure silliness of Barbarella getting attacked by dolls and birds, and the extreme, hair-exploding reactions to the hand-orgy that she has with the revolutionary Dildano (that oh-so-average and un-suggestive name that everybody was giving to their kids in the sixties) are some of the most ridiculous things that you have probably ever seen. And Vadim seems to recognize that. Characters comically stumble and bumble into others’ intimate moments. And Barbarella is more wide-eyed and farcically innocent about sex than any adult woman could possibly be, all while engaging in at least four different sexual acts throughout the film.

Still, as much as the film is able to laugh at itself, a person almost feels guilty for enjoying the film, especially given its star’s history. Fonda struggled with bulimia at the time, and being shown as a sex object seemed to only increase her anxieties. Add onto that, she was married to Vadim during the shooting of the film, and they were going through one hell of a rough patch. The star has since admitted in interviews that she went along with threesomes that her husband suggested, despite her discomfort, in order to make Vadim happy. “It hurt me. It reinforced me feeling I wasn’t good enough,” she told CNN’s Rebecca Leung in 2009. “One of the reasons that I went along with it was because I felt that if I said no, that he would leave, and I couldn’t imagine myself without him.”

The sexily torn and otherwise strange, fetishistic costumes that Fonda wore as Barbarella seemed, to her, to be another way of enlivening a dying marriage. She described herself as, “infected with the disease to please. Not with women – I’m fine with women, but with men. ‘Whatever you want, honey, I’ll become.’”

These days, when she looks back at the film, Fonda is much more generous towards it. In a 2011 interview with Piers Morgan, she told him that, “I think it’s a charming camp movie, not very sexy. But at the time young men had their first experiences looking at the film and I’m glad of that. I think it’s kind of cool that I aroused a lot of young men at that certain time.”

For some of us, the film, despite its self-deprecating humor and camp, and despite Fonda’s more recent acceptance of it, is still somewhat difficult to digest.

Perhaps it would be a little easier to go along with the film if Barbarella was a more empowering character who could take care of herself. Instead of being rescued by a man every time she gets in trouble, it might be nice to see her gun down the man-eating dolls who attack her. Or break herself out of the glass cage in which she’s trapped with vicious birds who seem to hate the idea of a fully-clothed woman, rather than being flown down a secret escape chute by Dildano.

Maybe if the film had not fed its star’s insecurities and self-destructive behaviors at the time, it would be easier to accept Barbarella as a simple piece of fun. As it stands, Barbarella is the Barbie doll of film culture – a sexy-looking toy that you feel guilty for playing with as soon as you start paying attention to the implications it has for women.

A ‘Brave’ Approach to Ordinary Relationships

Finally – time for a much-delayed review of my favorite movie from the summer: Pixar’s Brave. I don’t think I need to gush about the gorgeous graphics. You’ve probably heard a million times over that the red curls on heroine Merida’s head are quite a feat, and that the scenery is absolutely spectacular. And after all, what do you expect from Pixar?

But you’ve probably also heard people complaining about how the story is shallow and isn’t really as feminist as it claims to be. This is what irks me about many reviews of the movie.

What makes this movie so powerful is that it documents a very real relationship, just in a very fantastical setting. I was raised as a girl, and many scenes in Brave – which is most definitely about mother/daughter relationships – reminded me of my relationship with my own mother. The frequent arguments between Merida and her mother, Queen Elinor, made me feel as though the scriptwriters had been spying on my life when I was little. Even Merida’s relationship with her father, King Fergus – who clearly wanted to be the fun guy/”good cop” in the family, and didn’t always understand his wife’s desire for discipline – reminded me of my own childhood. The movie reminded me just how normal most of my childhood experiences were.

The wild-haired and wild-hearted Merida (voiced by Kelly Macdonald) faces off against her mother, Queen Elinor (voiced by Emma Thompson).

Merida, two of her mischievous triplet brothers, and her father, King Fergus (voiced by Billy Connolly), get up to shenanigans at dinner. (Much to the chagrin of Queen Elinor.)

It helps that both Merida and Elinor are far from perfect. Merida is perhaps a bit selfish, and can be willful and undisciplined to a fault, and Elinor can be extremely overbearing and far too obsessed with propriety. And both learn from their experiences, though I don’t want to give away too much of the story. And moments of the film even had my eyes tearing up. Mainly every time that Elinor showed that she would lay her life on the line for her daughter, no matter what. (I was, admittedly, having a pretty emotional week when I saw the movie, but still.)

Between the beautiful visuals and the touching story, Brave is a must-see for anybody who has a memorable relationship with their mother. Or with their daughter(s), for that matter.

‘Super’ Procrastination

So, part of what fed my procrastination – for the past couple of weeks, in any case – is discovering that past seasons of the show Supernatural are on Netflix. Well, thanks to friends’ posts on tumblr, I’d seen a few pictures and .gifs (Don’t know what a .gif is? Here, have one) from the series. I got curious, decided to watch, and got hooked. I am now speeding through the show – I’m already on the fourth season!

The show may not be an astounding work of art – it’s definitely a “let’s grab a bag of popcorn and watch an episode” kind of deal. But it’s fun. And the writers,  it seems, knew how to alternate between deadly seriousness and comic relief (much of which is based upon the appetite of Dean Winchester, the elder of two brothers who hunt supernatural creatures). While the cast does excellent work – leads Jensen Ackles (Dean) and Jared Paladecki (Sam Winchester)  are fun to watch, and not just for their good looks. And so are the hosts of demons and ghosts, shapeshifters and “pagan gods” that Sam and Dean find across the United States. And the visual effects and makeup are a sight to behold:

(SEASON 3 SPOILER) A changeling’s true form can be seen in a reflective surface such as a mirror according to an episode in the third season, “The Kids Are Alright.”

Nonetheless, I still enjoy the scriptwriting for Supernatural most of all. On top of their sense of humor, The writers have a keen self awareness, which they occasionally put into the episodes. (SPOILER ALERT) In the fourth season, they spend an entire episode – “The Monster at the End of the Book” – taking none-too-subtle whacks at the show itself. Sam and Dean discover a series of “novels” entitled (le gasp) Supernatural that chronicle tales uncannily similar to their own adventures. You could practically see the scriptwriter(s) sitting at their computers sniggering to themselves and saying, “I bet you can’t get away with making it that meta.” “Oh yeah? Wanna bet?” “I dare you to make it more meta.” “You’re on.” I’m pretty sure that the metabird paid them a more than few visits over the course of the series. (END SPOILER ALERT)

The metabird, a close cousin of the derpbird. Side effects of a metabird delivery may include excessive giggling and attempts at audience-trolling.

Now don’t get me wrong. Supernatural definitely has its flaws. The ambiguous religious undertones have made me uncomfortable during some episodes, and characters who are both sympathetic and show regulars tend to be caucasian. (There are some African-American characters along the line, for example, but they usually either disappear after one episode  or they turn out to be bad news.)

However, for the most part Supernatural is a fun show and its self-awareness and simple, but not overly campy sense of humor make it worthwhile.

‘Hunger Games’

Spring break is coming to a close and there is one thing I’ll miss almost as much as getting enough sleep (and more) every day: watching movies that I want to see, when I want to see them. This meant one movie and a handful of TV episodes. For the first time in what feels like ages, I went to see a movie in the theater with friends. And it was worth the train trip. The Hunger Games is packed with wonderful imagery and special effects and great actors.

The sheer visual contrast  in makeup and clothing between the lavish capitol and District 12, heroine Katniss Everdeen’s home, is enough to make your eyes bulge.

Elizabeth Banks as Effie Trinket (left), District 12’s escort from the capitol for the Hunger Games; and Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen (right), one of the tributes (contestants) from District 12.

I absolutely loved the costumes, if you can’t guess. And I was completely mesmerized by Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane’s beard:

I am glad that I wasn’t the only one to become fixated on Seneca Crane’s unspeakably awesome beard. I mean, that thing ought to have its own speaking role.

Okay, before I become incurably fascinated by that beard, the scenery and special effects. Absolutely gorgeous. The way that obstacles leap out of the ground or fly out of thin air at the tributes is incredibly spooky. Even without the special effects, the forests that Katniss roams, both before and during the Hunger Games, are beautiful in and of themselves.

And the actors are superb. Jennifer Lawrence is strong, motherly, independent, scared and vulnerable all at once as Katniss. Unfortunately, Josh Hutcherson isn’t given much to work with as Peeta Mellark, the second District 12 Tribute, though he does what he can with it. And Liam Hemsworth was definitely not given enough screen time as Katniss’s friend, Gale. (EDIT: For the record, I have been told by multiple people now that he gets a bigger role in the sequel, but I still roll my eyes whenever I recall that most of his screen time involved moody stares at a TV.) But, despite their relatively small roles, Seneca Crane (played by Wes Bentley) and District 11’s female tribute, Rue (played by Amanda Stenberg) really stole the show. Okay, Seneca’s beard may have had a role to play in that. But Bentley delivered a powerfully subtle performance as the head gamemaker. And Stenberg makes you want to just scoop her up and hug her.

Katniss (Lawrence) and Rue (Amandla Stenberg) are too cute for my brain to handle.

The plot detracts from all this, though. As moving as certain moments are, the story is fairly predictable. I could call who was going to die a good five to 10 minutes beforehand at least. And every other conversation in the first “act” of the movie provided some sort of blatant foreshadowing. (Katniss talking to her little sister about the selection of the district’s tributes, for example.)

Not to mention, the film does a fairly poor job of explaining various concepts. For example, I only knew Effie Trinket’s name because my friends who read the books were talking about her. Plus, I had to look her up online to fully understand her role in the Games.

And a few of the meant-to-be-touching moments ended up just feeling sappy. Let’s just say that when another audience member incredulously compared one scene to Twilight aloud, my friends and I burst out laughing.

But overall, Hunger Games is definitely worth seeing, if not entirely for the plot, then for the wonderful acting and beautiful visuals.

Some ‘Romeos’ Are Just Awkward Teens, But That’s a Good Thing

Mondays are “gay movie nights” on Sci-Fi Hall, and last week we watched Romeos. The movie broke the chief rule of gay movie night: it was all at once well-done, had a happy ending, and had everything to do with LGBTQ issues. (As opposed to previous movies, such as “Lesbian Vampires in Germany” – whose actual title is long forgotten – in which gay themes were only one tiny aspect.)

A poignant German film about a FTM (female-to-male) transsexual man, Romeos deals with issues that many LGBTQ films avoid or ignore. In the States at least, we have become accustomed to the idea drag queens, transsexual women, and cisgendered male transvestites. Priscilla Queen of the Desert is both a popular movie and a popular Broadway musical, both versions with touting star-studded casts. Meanwhile Hedwig and the Angry Inch, a play-turned-movie about a singer of questionable sex, has become a cult classic. And the popular comedian Eddie Izzard talks about his own adventures as a transvestite in stand-up shows such as “Dress to Kill.”

John Cameron Mitchell as Hedwig (top), Eddie Izzard (bottom), and the ladies of ‘Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’ (Hugo Weaving, Guy Pearce, and Terence Stamp).

But how often do we hear about transgender men? For many, the idea that somebody can be female-to-male transgender does not appear on their radar until late teenage years or adulthood, if at all. Our society has become incredibly accepting of tomboys and of women wearing what was once exclusively men’s attire and for that we deserve a pat on the back. But all the same, that means that trans men are not often noticeable in the same way that trans women are. So, unlike issues for trans women, lesbian, gay, and bisexual communities, issues for trans men are largely ignored. And that is a large part of what makes Romeos so special.

The movie not only sheds light on a largely ignored issue, but it deals with issues from the everyday awkwardness of going to the bathroom to coming out to friends who will not necessarily be accepting. It shows a trans person a more realistic, sympathetic light than previous popular films. (As wonderful and funny as a film like Hedwig and the Angry Inch is, it is a stretch to call the farcical film “realistic.”)

I have to admit that some aspects of the film are a bit cheezy – we could tell that the main character, Lukas, was going to fall for the ripped Italian man named Fabio as soon as the latter fellow traipsed into the scene. But for all the predictability, the film is both charming and effective.

Lukas (Rick Okon) and Fabio (Maximilian Befort) share an uncomfortable moment.

Romeos sucks the audience in with complex characters who are far too easy to get invested in, sometimes making it difficult not to shout at the screen. Rick Okon is endearing as self-conscious Lukas, ever-nervous that one of his new friends would discover that he has breasts. And Maximilian Befort portrays a well-rounded macho-but-gay Fabio very convincingly. But Liv Fries delivers a powerhouse performance as Lukas’s long-time friend, Ine, who has trouble coming to terms with the way Lukas has changed over time, especially with the use of testosterone. The character’s introduction is awkward, and Ine can be very insensitive, but Fries makes her a nonetheless sympathetic character.

For any awkward or predictable moments, Romeos is an enchanting, even groundbreaking film. Don’t pass it up!