Random weekend thoughts.
1) I really, really hate it when people say they'll call and don't.
2) I really, really like it when people randomly call.
3) Yuppies always seem to be prepared for hiking or some other outdoor activity. Evidence: those expensive, clunky ass European shoes they seem so fond of, which can be found in three stores in Dupont Circle. Also, they are always carrying water around, generally in the form of Nalgenes. I actually saw a guy walking around Dupont with a "camel pack" this weekend. What the fuck?
4) I'm not sure if there's anything more meaningless than the routine of getting trashed Friday and Saturday nights and spending Saturday and Sunday mornings talking about it.
5) My sister is awesome!
6) The cruel misogny of Hustle and Flow is depressing. Not that Boyz in the Hood was the most feminist film I have ever seen, but for some reason I wasn't expecting to be as taken aback as I was by this film's treatment of women characters. I scanned a bunch of reviews this morning to see what the critics had to say. I can see the point that maybe it's one of those complex films where you are supposed to feel conflicted about the protagonist (the DJAy character). Salon said: "As much as we want to believe he's a good guy at heart, Brewer isn't going to make things cushy for us by rushing our sympathy for him. The movie demands that we accept DJay on purely human terms -- in other words, that we acknowledge the ugliness of his flaws before we're allowed a glimpse of his latent decency." The film is acknowledging the ugliness of the pimp/ho relationship but also validating the inherent entrepreneurial talent of DJay, who finds his gift for music and makes some lovely songs about beating that bitch. I think both representations are true to life. I also think it's reinforcing the misogny of this reality, though, by only rewarding female characters whose devotion to the men in the film becomes their only strength. The women are pictured as hapless victims, annoying complainers, or maternal goddesses, and the only thing that changes about them happens as a direct consequence of DJay's progression. (One of DJay's hoes becomes his girlfriend after giving him some gifts and telling him how much she supports him; another, his "primary investor", who is rewarded for having sex with a man to get a microhpone, by getting to kiss the microphone, finally gains power by promoting DJay's work with local radio stations.) When one of his pregnant prostitutes gives him a gold chain, she thanks him profusely for allowing him the privelege to sing on his track. How does she sing on this track? They lead her into the studio, sit her down, tell her exactly what to sing (a verse about how hard it is to be a pimp), and then DJay smacks her to get her to sing it better. Great. I like how AO Scott from the Times phrases it: "Not that the movie exactly endorses such behavior; it just can't establish enough distance from its hero. Everybody gotta have a dream" is the movie's hopeful tag line, which DJay's sideman Shelby glosses as 'every man has the right to contribute his own verse.' His gender-specific version is truer to the spirit of Hustle & Flow where women, if they behave themselves, are allowed to sing backup ." I guess, over all, the movie, by offering "redemption" in cruel and unflattering terms, is pointing to the idea that redemption for many is not obtainable in ways that people like me would find tasteful. I can appreciate the artistic integrity of that point, but I also think there could be realistic ways of portraying female characters that are also affirming of women, the way the film affirms DJay's talent while acknowleding his shortcomings. 7) This morning at a meeting I vehemently disagreed with just about everybody but couldn't find the words to articulate it. It's my last meeting. Damn it!
2) I really, really like it when people randomly call.
3) Yuppies always seem to be prepared for hiking or some other outdoor activity. Evidence: those expensive, clunky ass European shoes they seem so fond of, which can be found in three stores in Dupont Circle. Also, they are always carrying water around, generally in the form of Nalgenes. I actually saw a guy walking around Dupont with a "camel pack" this weekend. What the fuck?
4) I'm not sure if there's anything more meaningless than the routine of getting trashed Friday and Saturday nights and spending Saturday and Sunday mornings talking about it.
5) My sister is awesome!
6) The cruel misogny of Hustle and Flow is depressing. Not that Boyz in the Hood was the most feminist film I have ever seen, but for some reason I wasn't expecting to be as taken aback as I was by this film's treatment of women characters. I scanned a bunch of reviews this morning to see what the critics had to say. I can see the point that maybe it's one of those complex films where you are supposed to feel conflicted about the protagonist (the DJAy character). Salon said: "As much as we want to believe he's a good guy at heart, Brewer isn't going to make things cushy for us by rushing our sympathy for him. The movie demands that we accept DJay on purely human terms -- in other words, that we acknowledge the ugliness of his flaws before we're allowed a glimpse of his latent decency." The film is acknowledging the ugliness of the pimp/ho relationship but also validating the inherent entrepreneurial talent of DJay, who finds his gift for music and makes some lovely songs about beating that bitch. I think both representations are true to life. I also think it's reinforcing the misogny of this reality, though, by only rewarding female characters whose devotion to the men in the film becomes their only strength. The women are pictured as hapless victims, annoying complainers, or maternal goddesses, and the only thing that changes about them happens as a direct consequence of DJay's progression. (One of DJay's hoes becomes his girlfriend after giving him some gifts and telling him how much she supports him; another, his "primary investor", who is rewarded for having sex with a man to get a microhpone, by getting to kiss the microphone, finally gains power by promoting DJay's work with local radio stations.) When one of his pregnant prostitutes gives him a gold chain, she thanks him profusely for allowing him the privelege to sing on his track. How does she sing on this track? They lead her into the studio, sit her down, tell her exactly what to sing (a verse about how hard it is to be a pimp), and then DJay smacks her to get her to sing it better. Great. I like how AO Scott from the Times phrases it: "Not that the movie exactly endorses such behavior; it just can't establish enough distance from its hero. Everybody gotta have a dream" is the movie's hopeful tag line, which DJay's sideman Shelby glosses as 'every man has the right to contribute his own verse.' His gender-specific version is truer to the spirit of Hustle & Flow where women, if they behave themselves, are allowed to sing backup ." I guess, over all, the movie, by offering "redemption" in cruel and unflattering terms, is pointing to the idea that redemption for many is not obtainable in ways that people like me would find tasteful. I can appreciate the artistic integrity of that point, but I also think there could be realistic ways of portraying female characters that are also affirming of women, the way the film affirms DJay's talent while acknowleding his shortcomings. 7) This morning at a meeting I vehemently disagreed with just about everybody but couldn't find the words to articulate it. It's my last meeting. Damn it!
posted by Brynne at 2:01 AM
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