This is a story that is not at all unfamiliar for women working in tech. In fact, it almost feels like the status quo. Wolfe was treated with repeated casual misogyny in the workplace, no one helped her when she asked for assistance, and she was also confronting ageism and the notion that a young, confident woman couldn’t possibly be an important part of a company. When she fought back aggressively, she was fired.
While the industry may represent a pinnacle of sexism, it wasn’t created in a vacuum
The gentlemen at Esquire have convinced themselves that by calling these mature women “hot,” they’re embracing women’s power. But really they are doing the opposite by joining the chorus of people demanding that women stay hot longer and longer.
Every film that adds in a regular, biological quirk or aspect of the female experience will help to eradicate the silence that makes normalcy feel wrong. Gender doesn’t dictate filmmaking, but it does diversify it, coloring cinema with broader insights, experiences, and hooks (along with heaps of really great female characters).
I like being in space because there are better parts for women in space. I don’t have to subject myself to just being the love interest or playing a character that doesn’t feel relevant to the story or playing a woman that doesn’t feel like an actual depiction of a real woman.
The real problem isn’t sexually explicit messaging, which is simply a normal expression of adolescent sexuality. It’s how we’re raising our boys, and what we’re telling them about girls.
Robespierre, who is also the primary screenwriter of her directorial debut, makes the wise choice of not turning Donna’s pregnancy into some kind of special case that might justify abortion to people who are wishy-washy on the issue… The message is clear: Women should be able to experiment sexually without having to carry an unwanted pregnancy to term.
Ultimately, Edge of Tomorrow is not the story of how soldiers fought tirelessly to eradicate an invading alien race, but a story of Hollywood still caught in an endless loop of gendered habit. Studios create female characters, mess them up, and try again.
The question is: How many more tries until the studios figure it out, and cinema moves forward?
This isn’t about rules or checklists, but rather a reminder that young women’s ability to wear whatever they want does not actually mean that they are really dressing the way they want. The culture they are surrounded by is working hard and fast against them, and the choice between skimpy and modest is no choice at all.
There are many theories from sociologists and economists on why this is happening — some say women often lack the confidence to ask for what they’re worth; others contend that male bosses may be subconsciously sexist and undervalue women. Regardless of the reason, it’s women and their families who feel the greatest loss.
Nora Charles redefined perfection, stealing it from the grasp of a studio system that relished the the safety of repetition. She was perfect because she defied expectation and battled against tradition, and was emblematic of the excellence that comes from exploring the cinematic world outside the expected.
By diverging from the norms of the 1930s, The Thin Man introduced a female icon that has lost none of her power