Has The Female Fantasy Died or Transmogrified?
As has been my tendency of late (and almost always when procrastinating) I've become engaged with, and embroiled in, a non-academic debate. Several of my friends have already been privy to this discussion (and so I'll save their sanity preemptively by stating that "Yes, it's the Movie Argument - again.")
The "Movie Argument", for those of you who don't know, found its birth after a disappointing viewing of Judd Apatow's "Knocked Up". Disappointing because I expected it to be a raunchy comedy delving into the male psyche, filled with potty humour and the obligatory fawning over naked women when instead, in addition to that (bearing in mind that there was not nearly enough of that, it turned into a sappy romantic comedy in which "everything worked out in the end". Just when I was hoping Hollywood wouldn't do the happy ending and would finally grow some balls.
So why does this frustrate me? (Me, of all people, who fawns over romantic comedies and Harlequin historical romance novels...?!)
White Knights With Pot-Bellies, In-Grown Toenails and a Bit of Potty Mouth
I submit that Mr. Apatow's foray into writing (increasingly as of late) is echoing an all-too disturbing recent media trend (see: King of Queens, Still Standing, According to Jim etc.) where a schlub makes off with an incredible (educated, ambitious, articulate, gorgeous, insert-appropriate-adjective-that-describes-his-exact-opposite-here) woman. In short, Apatow has carved out a delectable male fantasy in which his useless male lead (riddled with flaws) can still, by design or by colossal mistake of the cosmos, find, woo, and score his dream woman (and by extension the dream woman of the majority of his male audience).
Now before I get into my actual reasons for frustration, I'd like to highlight the two main positions taken by my male friends (with whom I've discussed this new rom-com phenomenon).
First, I am told, I shouldn't find this at all frustrating because, reality being what it is, no guy, however charming (read: "funny") would score with a “10” unless he matched her in number or had a really large...wallet. Women in real life who meet the standards (that I perceive them as having) of the characters in these movies do not give the average schlub the time of day. Perhaps, but I’m not entirely convinced of this.
Second, and here is where I see the argument becoming somewhat personal, I am told that these women are not everything I see them to be (or, if they are, these aren't necessarily positive character traits that men find endearing). Allowing some room for poetic license, my interpretation of this opinion is that “ambitious and driven” = “bitchy, hardheaded and opinionated” to a lot of men. And of course "sexy/gorgeous" has always been an individual thing which means that strong, sexy female leads may be completely off-putting to some. (I was totally bowled over when my friend said he was disgusted by Katherine Heigl's character in Knocked Up. How could Heigl disgust anybody, ever?!)
But, of course, I am digressing.
My personal annoyance with this topic – as I’ve mentioned – started with Knocked Up but didn’t end there. As I watched (with mounting frustration) I began to think about how often in recent media history this formula had played out. Time and time again men that were not (in my estimation) on top of their gender’s hierarchy managed to secure women who were bringing their A-game in terms of looks, financial stability, intelligence (and the like). In short, men with very little effort secured the cream of the crop, whereas women (at their peak) made out (pun intended) with the underdog.
So, I began asking, “where is the female counterpart?” If we are to assume that all of these movies, sitcoms and the like are patterned after male fantasy, what the hell has Hollywood given women to fantasize about? A pot-bellied dumpy guy who moves boxes all day (or worse yet, sits around smoking weed and “imagining” his dirty movie website, with nary a job prospect or intelligent thought in sight)? Awesome! Sign me up. Better still…get me one for my non-existent sister.
What exactly are we coming to when it’s assumed that that’s the best a woman is able to do? What message are we sending to women?!
I’m actually offended that Hollywood would be so narrowminded that they’d create a fantasy built for men and, by extension, tell women that this is the best they can ever hope to catch in a partner. Totally okay for guys to let themselves go all to hell…but women have to keep it together if Jim (Belushi) is their dream man.
I’d rant about fairness, but as we know, life just ain’t fair.
Attack of the Schlumps (And Other Rotten Tomatoes)
In aptly titled "Eclipse of the Hunk", blogger Jeff Wells describes what he calls schlumps (a more fitting word I have yet to find!): “galumphy” guys who “look like real guys, which means almost never slender or buffed, and frequently chunky, overweight or obese. And usually with roundish faces with half-hearted beard growth, hair on their backs, man-boobs with tit hairs, blemishes, and always horribly dressed -- open-collared plaid dress shirts, low-thread-count T-shirts with lame-ass slogans or promotions on the chest, long shorts and sandals (or flip-flops), monkey feet, unpedicured toenails”. These “upgraded” versions of the modern male (whatever happened to metro?) replace the traditional Brandos, Hudsons, Deans, DiCaprios, (Hugh and Carey) Grants and the like with a character/persona more fitting (and attainable) by everyday men. Presumably, doing this will make the romantic comedy more appealing to the guys who invariably have to suffer the demands of their girlfriends. The fantasy knight on a white horse (which leaves most men rolling their eyes and most women secretly yearning but outwardly scoffing) is now your Average Joe. Mediocrity, it would seem, knows no bounds.
But just what is this reformed characterization really accomplishing? Is it reinvigorating a new breed of men complacent in their schlumpiness? Is it convincing women to settle upon a sack of potatoes in lieu of a husband (albeit a “funny” sack of potatoes where acerbic wit and stimulating intellectual conversation have been replaced by fart jokes?)
My male friends argue that no woman is going to watch these movies or TV shows and suddenly become convinced that the only thing missing from her life is a funny guy (with no discernable skills or marketability to his name). Further, they argue that real life would NEVER pair a dumpy guy (ala Kevin James) with Amber Valletta (see: Hitch), no matter how colossal the intervention. Apparently, that alone should be enough to convince me that my irritation is unnecessary.
But my frustration is mired in more than the superficial, even though I have an admittedly difficult time with these physically mismatched pairings. I’m disgusted by the apathetic (read: slovenly) male leads who, especially in Apatow films, can barely muster the energy or interest to scratch their own asses. How does this pass for humour? Moreover, why do women (who apparently enjoy these movies!) graciously accept that behaviour as the norm? If this is truly a reflection of society (and I’m not naïve enough to suggest that it is), doesn’t it demonstrate that women are surpassing men in every capacity? Shouldn’t we then expect more from our partners? Or have we collectively resigned to settling for “the best it’s gonna get”?
Where I think Hollywood proceeds to do even more damage is the notable lack of female versions of this stereotype – the barely ambitious, illogical, lazy, unattractive etc. – female who magically catches the eye of the man of her dreams because he manages to see past her tragic character flaws. Where is the female who, in all aspects fails at life but is still “funny” enough to snag the attention of the cute guy at the ballpark/boardroom/dance club etc.? From all accounts she simply doesn’t exist.
(A male friend has suggested that the implausibility of this occurrence is a result of the fact that women simply aren’t funny and thus such a character would be wholly unbelievable. We’ve since concluded that a female’s version of “funny” is “great tits” – but that is a topic for a separate discussion.)
The fat/dumpy/ditzy/stupid/whatever-she-is-that-makes-her-not-the-lead-heroine girl is almost always (if she exists at all) relegated to the position of “best friend”, “sidekick”, “confidante” or evil step-sister. “We'll [never] ever see a lot of films where an average-looking, overweight woman scores a hot guy, because, frankly, men -- and most women -- won't pay to see that…women, in their heart-of-hearts, like to think they'd rather be with a nice guy who treats them well and wants to be with them than a Greek God who thinks the world revolves around him” (Voynar 2008). Assuming that this is true, why does the double standard fail us so badly that we’re left with the Seth Rogens and Jason Segels of the world while men are left to fawn over Jolies and Johannsons?
The Ugly Truth
It would appear that there is some validity in the idea behind Apatow’s pairings (whether he is consciously aware of it or not). Researchers at the University of Tennessee, in a recent exploration of the influence of attractiveness upon marriage, have found that while attractiveness in women has a stabilizing effect upon marriage, attractiveness in men has the opposite. “Evolutionary perspectives can help explain why men’s attractiveness, in both an absolute and relative sense, appeared to be more detrimental than beneficial to marriage: Attractive men have available to them more short-term mating opportunities…. It may be that wives are not adversely affected by being more attractive than their husbands because attractiveness is less important to women in long-term mating situations and equity only matters in terms of important resources” (McNulty et al. 2008, pg 141).
By this logic, Apatow’s construction is less fiction than it is reality (much to my eternal annoyance). I would argue that his characters (like many of the others that have emerged in recent years in comedies) are not as well matched, even on a resource level, as McNulty et al. has suggested is important. But, for argument’s sake, let’s say they were…
Since when did the Hollywood Dream Machine occupy itself with representing reality and positive messages?
Off the top of my head, the only equitable offering comparable to Apatow’s films which bring together a seemingly impossible match was the Farrelly Brothers’ 2001 “Shallow Hal”. Again, by some “magical intervention” (see how implausible Hollywood makes such a reality?!) the outwardly unattractive Shanahan (Gwyneth Paltrow) is made beautiful to Larson (Jack Black) who is forced to look past her exterior to the wonderful person beneath. Yes, we get the importance of this message, but in a sense, even this logic is flawed. Shanahan’s 300lb character, while beautiful to her audience, is still 300lbs. And at 300lbs (conventionally unattractive), Jack Black, her eventual love, is not handsome in any traditional sense (Hollywood or otherwise). He’s the adorable, funny, dorky guy that women are supposedly secretly yearning for, but he’s no fantasy. Paltrow’s character couldn’t have done any better (or so it seems to suggest), and thus the movie is a stunning failure in its attempt to send a positive message. Would the movie have been less believable if we’d cast Colin Farrell or Brad Pitt in his place? I’d argue that at very least it would have put female fantasy on the same pedestal as the male fantasies which boost box office sales.
I get that Hollywood is in the business of constructing fantasy and that one should hardly be looking to the silver screen to be representative of what is taking place in society. But if what’s good for the gander is Heigl, Alba and even Paltrow then why is the goose’s Clooney or Washington not rubbing elbows with Rachel Dratch’s Debbie Downer?
I guess we’re back to that whole “nice tits” thing.
