More Than A Magazine, A Movement
Renaissance—Beyoncé Knowles-Carter’s fifth self-directed film—is about how to shine your light, how to give others shine, and how to sit in darkness until the light comes again.
In this season of light, we have a tremendous opportunity to observe a Black woman in her prime at 42 years old making art, working at her craft, raising her children, and surrounded by a strong network.
More than 300 years after the Salem witch trials, a class of middle schoolers helped exonerate the sole remaining woman legally classified as a witch.
Originally expected to be a simple class project, the path to clearing Elizabeth Johnson Jr.’s name took three years and the help of a Massachusetts state senator, Diana DiZoglio (D). Unwed women were viewed with suspicion at the time of the trials, and many individuals convicted were later exonerated by their own descendants. With no descendants to clear her name, Johnson’s wrongful conviction remained in place—making her the last remaining witch in Salem history—until Carrie LaPierre’s class came to her aid.
Filmmakers Annika Hylmö and Dawn Green tell this story in their upcoming documentary, The Last Witch.
The Way We Were premiered in 1973. Today, audiences are still drawn to the film’s unlikely romance. In creating the character of Katie, screenwriter Arthur Laurents drew on memories of classmate Eva Moskovitz, who became the successful author Eve Merriam.
Given that the 50th anniversary of The Way We Were is also the anniversary of Ms. magazine and a high point in the women’s liberation movement, it is worth considering what it means that in 1973, a successful female author could be recast in an iconic and beloved film as a woman willing to give up her ambitions to get the hunky guy.
The Exorcist: Believer employs its Caribbean-based opening scene not to locate an “origin” for demonic possession, but to follow an actual blessing in the form of a protection spell over an unborn child. Given how Haiti has been traditionally demonized in Western culture, this representation already elevates this film as a counter-narrative.
In the end, the latest installment of The Exorcist does much to alter Black representations in the horror genre, giving them due reverence and centrality in a mainstream movie while also allowing them to survive.
In Oppenheimer, Nolan’s depiction of atomic history is credited to one man. We sometimes see women and wives, albeit as a backdrop. Emily Blunt and Frances Pugh do great work with very few words spoken. The women’s work in—in this case meaning their function—is sexual: as muse, mistress, mama. But any potential power in these roles shifts at the whims of men. The real performances of this film—science, law, politics, violence, espionage—are seen and spoken without them.
“What work do wives do? They understand male scientific and military might and destruction from the perspective of the unwitting receiver (or observer or support), which is the role most of us play.”
The Barbie movie reveals one of the patriarchy’s dirty little secrets: Not only does the patriarchy exclude and punish women; but it also harms men who don’t meet the very narrow definitions of ‘manhood’ that are most favored.
Millions of men have already seen the movie and enjoyed it immensely. This success is a testament to our ability to laugh at ourselves and some of the less attractive features of male-dominated cultures, without crying foul and embracing an unearned victim status.
Girls are showing up, shaping popular culture for the better. Their choices tell us about friendship, connection, and how to forge joy in this world.
Of course, the power of girls as consumers and taste-makers isn’t new. And life remains pretty damn hard for young people. But when I see the Swifties in their ecstatic thrall, or the pink-clad Barbie hordes stampeding toward the theater, I think: We could all use a little more of that sincerity and exuberance in our lives.
In Barbie, Greta Gerwig pushes her message of feminist disruption as far as she can for a mainstream movie. She is reckoning with Barbie’s legacy and literally rewriting the script through active questioning and engagement. It’s a huge start.
Despite our collective love for larger-than-life motion pictures, I must lament the dearth of images of Black women in heroic, star-turning roles.
But in Barbieland, a topsy-turvy world where women run things—in contrast to the “real world” of patriarchy—we can imagine women in every possible role. Let’s hope Barbie’s commercial success encourages more support for films that feature diverse women as big-screen heroes. There are so many more stories to be told.
In Barbie, Greta Gerwig creates a world where femininity is celebrated in the mainstream.
