New week, new recommendations #10 – Independent women
Recommendation list - Arina Kosareva
For Mia Dolan (Emma Stone, La La Land (2016)) to gamble on her career over love and not be judged by this choice, generations of fierce female heroines had to endure male-centered peer pressure, misunderstanding, and even public ridicule. What more engaging way is there to trace how the perception of strong women evolved throughout time than to check out iconic Hollywood movies from different eras?
Mildred Pierce (1945)
An adaptation of the 1941 psychological crime novel of the same by James M. Cain, Mildred Pierce, directed by Michael Curtiz, is one of these deeply vexing films that compartmentalize women quite inconspicuously but very efficiently. Bear in mind that this is a 21st-century-induced interpretation – when the movie premiered in 1945, female audiences were reported to have been tearing up as they sympathized with an uneasy life of a single mother.
Mildred Pierce, though, is much more than that. Played by tantalizing Joan Crawford, who was awarded the 1946 “Best Actress” Academy Award for this performance, she is a savvy, not to mention very stylish, businesswoman who successfully establishes a profitable restaurant chain. The narrative develops within the constraints of film noir – a sudden murder jumpstarts the plot, and Pierce’s life unwinds as a series of flashbacks, conveying every choice that she made. And it is almost as if she is incapable of making the right one – which is very conveniently predetermined by the patriarchal impression that every woman’s place is by the cradle and/or by the stove.
In 1996, Mildred Pierce was selected to be preserved in the National Film Registry as a “culturally, historically or aesthetically” significant film. Fifteen years later, HBO released a miniseries of the same name directed by Todd Haynes and starring Kate Winslet. A contemporary rethinking of the original film, the show reestablished its iconic status while disposing of the initial conservative stance.
Carmen Jones (1954)
The protagonists name in this film is a direct reference to the 1875 opera Carmen written by Georges Bizet, which, in turn, was based on Prosper Mérimée’s novella about a bewitching Gitano seductress who belongs to no man. Otto Preminger’s 1954 musical film with Dorothy Dandridge as the lead, while exploring similar themes and using the music of the originals, draws from the 1943 Broadway production by Billy Rose, a well-known impresario and showman of that time, who rescripted the plot of Mérimée’s Carmen in the World War II setting, rewrote the lyrics in English, and hired an all-Black cast to perform.
Dandridge’s Carmen is an exuberant Black woman who, as her Romani predecessor, values freedom above all. The inevitable moralization of the 1950s films, as well as the overall proclivity for racism and segregation at the time, do leave a distinct mark on the character. A parachute factory worker, a fugitive, a lover, a performer, a sultry enchantress, she will assume any role, regardless of how it affects (and affect it does, royally) those who surround her – hence, every Carmen’s action is looked down on somewhat bluntly, and the vain pursuit of independence takes its unavoidable toll on her.
The Black community in Hollywood holds Dandridge, and the film by proxy, in high esteem – in 1955, she became the first Black actress in history to have received an Academy Awards nomination in the “Best Actress” category. Grace Kelly claimed the prize for her performance in The Country Girl (1954) then, but Dandridge did pave the way for dozens of Black performers who triumphed at the Oscars in the decades that followed. In 1992, the Library of Congress confirmed the status of Carmen Jones by preserving it in the National Film Registry for its “cultural, historical, or aesthetic” significance.
Foxy Brown (1974)
“She is sweet brown sugar with the touch of spice,” a brisk male voice-over in the Foxy Brown trailer comments, as a Black woman unties the straps of her violet swimsuit before slamming the door in a man’s face. What now would immediately be labelled as objectification of the female body, in 1974, and within the Black community especially, was a sensation. “I call it the ‘Brown Nipple Revolution’,” explained Pam Grier, who portrayed the titular character. “I wanted to make people start seeing women of color, because we weren’t the epitome of sexual attraction for the male audience, in movies, magazines, anything.”
Foxy Brown is one of the most noteworthy and controversial blaxploitation films directed by Jack Hill. The genre itself, as its name suggests, “exploits” societal trends and usually features Black people as protagonists. In this case, the plot centers around Foxy Brown who takes revenge against a drug syndicate that was responsible for her boyfriend’s murder. Her chosen methods are fairly unconventional (posing as as a sex worker is one of them) but she comes out on top every time – kicking ass, shooting, setting buildings on fire, and saving the lives of fellow women.
Entertaining, extravagant, and violent, this film was heavily criticized for its plot holes and a stereotypical representation of the Black community. However, this hasn’t stopped both the film industry and the audiences from recognizing it as inherently feminist, openly demonstrating that women possess as much agency as any man and are, therefore, entitled to any reaction they deem appropriate. As such, Foxy Brown became an endless source of references in the Western culture, and to a large extent inspired Quentin Tarantino’s third movie, Jackie Brown (1997), also starring Grier as the lead.
Norma Rae (1979)
By the time Norma Rae premiered at the 1979 Cannes Film Festival, Martin Ritt, the director behind the film starring Sally Field in the titular role, was already widely known for his affinity with the “ordinary folk,” such as mechanics, drifters, cashiers, etc, and the intricacies of their seemingly simple lives. The film’s protagonist, Norma, easily falls into this category: she is a poorly educated cotton factory worker and a single mother with two children with different fathers. Her decision to contribute to the unionization of the factory sets off a chain of events that make her rethink not only the established world order but also her own, private reality.
The film is based on a real-life story of Crystal Lee Sutton, a union organizer who was fired from J.P. Stevens plant (now WestPoint Home) for her activism against poor working conditions. The pivotal moment in her campaign, and in the Norma Rae’s plot, was her attempt to copy the anti-union letter (racist flier in the film) issued by the plant. Before she was escorted off the premises, she climbed on the table, holding a cardboard with the word “UNION” scribbled on it – and as she slowly turned around, each factory worker switched off their machine. Field’s ardent performance rendered this scene legendary, and the actress deservedly received three most prominent prizes in the industry – the Best Actress award in Cannes in 1979 and an Oscar and a Golden Globe the next year. In 2011, the film was selected “to be preserved as [a] cultural, artistic and historical treasure” in the Library of Congress’s National Film Registry.
Norma Rae is indeed a formidable piece of art, and a moving representation of women in film. However, as Norma gets more and more involved in the union work, she begins to neglect other aspects of her life, namely her family – at least according to her lover who reprimands her for being an absent mother and partner. The tale as old as time: the woman and the success do not yet to go hand in hand.
Erin Brokovich (2000)
Academy Award, BAFTA Award, Critics' Choice Movie Award, Golden Globe Award, National Board of Review Award, and Screen Actors Guild Award – Julia Roberts seems to have won every possible prestigious acting prize there is for her titular role in Steven Soderbergh’s Erin Brokovich. Released at the cusp of two centuries, this legal drama, featuring a single mother who is desperately looking for a job, represents an ontological shift of a kind. Now, it is acceptable to be sassy and hot, determined and inspiring – and raise three children while exploiting men’s weaknesses to your own advantage. I mean, they are called boobs.
The film is based on the story of Erin Brokovich who did take down Pacific Gas and Electric Company in 1996 for contaminating groundwater with toxins in Hinkley, California, causing a cancer epidemic in the area. “YES, the movie was true and probably 98% accurate,” confirmed Brokovich. “Yes, I had a potty mouth in the movie and I still do.” Roberts’s heroine does not hold her tongue indeed – when she is annoyed, she is annoyed, when she is emotional, she is emotional. Brokovich possesses a true freedom of self-expression, and her thatch of blonde curly hair and flamboyant clothes stand in striking contrast with the mannerism and sophistication of the corporate world.
Despite the film’s open feminist stance, the dated notions about women that have been affecting them for the past millennia are still there. Men continue to believe that it is their sacred right and duty to advise Brokovich on what to wear and how to speak, and they stand wide-eyed and speechless when she somehow does the impossible. The difference is, she finally talks back – and rather wittingly.
* Writers note: There are two critical observations I made while writing this piece.
One, all these feminist films are made by men – thus, it is an intrinsically male perception of what an independent woman is. Can men be feminist? No doubt. Nonetheless, female directors are very much underrepresented and under-appreciated in the mainstream. Look at all the nominees for the 2023 Academy Awards in the category “Best Director.” They are all men.
Two, the “struggling-single-mother” trope is a fairly prolific one. Motherhood, albeit the most crucial phenomenon of the human existence, seems to be an essential addition to every independent woman’s story. It may also be discriminatory – what about those who consciously decide against having children? Their path to success and autonomy does not automatically become a stroll in a sunny park only because they are not raising anyone.