As a seasoned gamer who’s seen more than a few lives come and go, I can’t help but feel a sense of camaraderie with these maturing female film protagonists. They’re fighting battles that mirror my own journey in the gaming world – grappling with the relentless march of time, dealing with the harsh realities of a youth-obsessed industry, and trying to maintain our power amidst changing circumstances.
Shelly Gardner won’t be anyone’s sex kitten.
As a devoted admirer, I’d rephrase that as follows:
Back in the day, they took you on at Razzle Dazzle due to your youthful charm and beauty,” he says to her. “To be fair, though, it wasn’t only about your looks. It was primarily because of your sex appeal and youth. If you’re having trouble grasping this, let me clarify: You were never just a pretty face; you were the embodiment of allure and youthfulness. However, if that’s not what you’re projecting anymore, darling, then I’m afraid I can’t assist you further. On to the next.
Among this year’s Oscar-contending movies, Shelly is one of several female characters grappling with the strain of aging in an industry that often emphasizes youth and attractiveness excessively. Notably, films like “The Substance”, “The Last Showgirl”, “Babygirl”, “Nightbitch”, and “Maria” all delve into the struggle of growing older gracefully. Moreover, these films seem to be pioneering a new wave in cinema, as they courageously explore the psychological journeys of women beyond a certain age, questioning their perceived decreasing value in romantic or sexual relationships – a topic seldom explored since Diane Lane’s groundbreaking portrayal in “Unfaithful” (2002).
As a devoted admirer, I find these films to be powerful declarations and movements led predominantly by female directors, delving into deeply personal narratives that subtly serve as social critiques. They don’t just explore the taboo but strive to portray what has often been ridiculed with empathy. These stories pose questions: How do we navigate power when our bodies – our most valuable assets, particularly to those who wield power over us – undergo transformation? And is it a sign of weakness even to attempt such navigation?
It’s not coincidental that these movies emerged following the rise of the #MeToo movement. This movement seems to have clarified for female directors the importance of telling such stories, and possibly encouraged independent distributors and financiers to believe in their market appeal. The fact that most of the lead actresses from these films received Golden Globe nominations suggests that this belief was well-founded.
Babygirl Cinema’s films don’t shy away from criticizing their main characters. Most titles in this post-Time’s Up selection portray a once-powerful figure grappling with the feeling of becoming obsolete. They willingly let themselves be used for fame or protection at certain points, and now feel bitter about no longer being able to rely on their personal appeal. As their attractiveness wanes, these characters may take drastic measures to hold onto their past influence.
In some cases, this grasp is ironically the sole method to endure sexism mentally or physically. The unsettling body-horror fantasy movie titled “The Substance” by Coralie Fargeat features Demi Moore as a naive aerobics instructor who’s pushed out due to ageism. To regain power, she seeks help from a mysterious drug that enables her to merge lives with a younger and more attractive doppelganger (Margaret Qualley), a flesh construct that oozes as it splits from its own blood and bone. Over time, this duplicate increasingly degrades Moore’s character into the very discarded state that society had envisioned for her.
Instead of relying on her sex appeal alone to combat the dreaded decline in status during middle age, Babygirl’s character Romy (played by Nicole Kidman), as depicted in Halina Reijn’s erotic thriller, instead opts for using sensual intimacy. In this film, Kidman’s powerful corporate executive figure seeks to challenge her own position of authority by partaking in unconventional dominant-submissive relationships with a significantly younger colleague (Harris Dickinson).
In “The Last Showgirl,” a distinct sense of nostalgia from youth seeps through, as Shelly yearns for a time when the casino was sold out and she, along with her dance troupe, were jet-set globetrotters. Similarly, both “Maria” and “Nightbitch” portray the hardships of women who fear they’ve reached their creative zenith and crave experiences that might reignite their artistic spark.
In “Maria,” Angelina Jolie portrays opera legend Maria Callas under the direction of Pablo Larraín in this somber biopic. The film reveals a tragic backstory where Maria was coerced into prostitution by her own mother during World War II, and it poignantly explores the deep-seated wounds that persisted even at age 53. In “Nightbitch,” Marielle Heller subtly depicts the transformation of Adams’ character as she is shunned from her elite art circle after giving birth. As the story unfolds, she struggles to reclaim her old identity while dealing with peculiar physical transformations that symbolize her new role as a mother.
Of course, formerly powerful women lashing out at a looming insignificance has at times been a staple of Hollywood cinema; the apotheosis is the delusional diva Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard. But depicting the debate in purely sexual terms, with a messy and authentic female perspective and protagonist, is a newer phenomenon in contrast to the cuddly gentility of Harold and Maude‘s titular grand dame (Ruth Gordon), the campiness of Sylvia Miles in Midnight Cowboy and Lee Grant in Shampoo, or even Angela Bassett’s cleaner arc of empowerment in How Stella Got Her Groove Back.
As a gamer, I can’t help but notice that some of today’s brightest stars – Moore, Anderson, Jolie, Kidman – have faced harsh tabloid scrutiny due to their personal scandals, particularly those related to sexual misconduct and marital issues. In these films, it feels like they’re taking a stand against this cultural mistreatment in Hollywood, making a bold statement that says “enough is enough.
One movie, titled “Anora“, offers a contrast by depicting the vitality these mature characters aim to rekindle. Directed by Sean Baker, this film focuses on Ani (Mikey Madison), a 20-something stripper and occasional prostitute who employs her most valuable asset – her body – as both a political statement and an economic weapon, using it strategically to arrange a marriage with the son of a Russian oligarch. Ani views this tool as always sharp. The characters in “The Substance“, specifically “Maria” and “Nightbitch“, serve as a reminder that this tool could potentially be used against her in the future.
This narrative was initially published in a special December edition of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. If you’d like to get the magazine, you can do so by clicking here to subscribe.
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2024-12-17 22:26