Movie Review: The Fighter

On Saturday, I went to see The Fighter, a movie staring Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, and Amy Adams. The film recounts the real-life experiences of boxer, Micky Ward and his family en route to the pursuit of boxing greatness.

Unfamiliar with Ward’s boxing and family history, I cannot say how accurately the film narrates this period of his life. However, the film is a beautiful tale exemplifying the tensions that run through family, work, the criminal justice system, the boxing industry, and the working-class community of Lowell, Massachusetts in the early 1990s.

Based on the film’s trailers, one might expect a typical “underdog overcomes the odds” sports flick, supplemented with a tangential love interest and spattered family conflicts. While the sporting “underdog” narrative definitely exists, boxing is used more as a medium through which a deeper familial story is told.

The Fighter Trailers:




Christian Bale gives a phenomenal performance. Playing Micky Ward’s older brother, Dicky, Bale effectively illustrates how substance use turns into a coping mechanism when one’s identity is wrapped up so heavily in an erratic athletic career. Outstanding movie.




academics

"Just Wright" About What?

It's rare that I will pass up a sports movie. With the NBA playoffs in full swing and after listening to NPR pump up the film "Just Wright" ('Just Wright' And The Rhythm of Romance; Common, Sanaa Hamri Get It 'Just Wright'), I decided to check out Queen Latifah and Common's latest cinematic endeavor.

Okay, so the film is cute, extremely cliche and predictable. What else would one expect from an American romance? It's interesting, however, how much the film is being cast as a progressively feminist flick simply becuase it tells the story of a hunky pro basketball player and his choice to marry a "plus sized woman," rather than the stereotypically slender basketball wife.

Ultimately the film is not about breaking gender lines. Instead, in typical American fashion, it is just another rendition of how women define their worth through their relationship with men. In "Just Wright," Queen Latifah plays a talented, successful physical therapist who just can't land a man.

Despite all her occupational talents, humorous traits, commitment to family, and other likeable characteristics, it's Scott McKnight (Common), the NBA All-Star, who completes her life.




It's interesting, "Just Wright" comes out during a time when "plus sized women" are making the headlines as supposedly overly sexual, as discussed in this NPR podcast: "Plus-Sized Models An Increasing Presence In Ads." But again, this trend in trying to make "plus-sized" women acceptably feminine is hardly progressive. Fundamentally, femininity is not changing. It's simply including more women in its current cultural framework.

The feminine dogma that calls for women to be physically attractive for men now includes a new set of women. Thus, the central narrative really hasn't changed at all. Bottom line, women need to look pretty for men, because it's through their connection to men that they enhance their status.

Avatar, The Noble Savage, and Dominant Narratives

The folks over at Sociological Images have a fantastic review of the recently released movie, Avatar, up. Their commentary discusses how race, colonization, and the "noble savage" are deeply embedded in the blockbuster film. And the comments beneath their review also interrogate covert gender trends in the film.

They relate Avatar to other relatively recent films, such as Dances with Wolves and The Last Samurai, where white men "go native" and end up assuming major leadership roles within indigenous/minority populations, thereby ultimately becoming the central leaders for those "other" populations.

Consequently, the bottom line message from that genre of films is that while there are lessons to be learned from both cultures, it is the white, male culture that truly enables people of color to resist internal or external threats, even if only temporarily. Or even in movies based on true events, such as Freedom Writers and The Blind Side, with white women as the saviors, one must wonder (1) why those stories in particular were chosen as stories for motion pictures, and (2) why those stories were recieved so well by American audiences.

In the end, who, once again, is the hero, and what does this say about racial stratification in film and society? This is the same message I argued was expressed in Gran Torino (though most readers of that entry expressed their hatred of me and my analysis).

It is a fantastic read and obviously applicable for students right now. Check it out: On Avatar, The Movie (Spoiler Alert)

Documentary Review: In the Game

It may seem odd to be writing a review of a documentary released back in 1994, which covers a team from 1990. However, I've found that PBS Frontline's documentary, In the Game, is still one of the best teaching tools out there that exemplifies how gender inequality manifests in society. At the same time, this documentary is an uplifting, positive story that will not leave students hanging their heads, depressed upon walking out of class.

The documentary follows Stanford's 1990 women's basketball team in their pursuit for an NCAA Division I National Championship. Their head coach, Tara VanDerveer has assembled an all-star group of athletes, many of whom are now seniors, including Jennifer Azzi, the documentary's central figure.

Throughout the course of In the Game, the documentary presents excellent examples of gender socialization, perceived deviance, limits to upward mobility, pay inequities, and of course it shows the benefits of Title IX. Last week I showed this documentary to my Intro to Sociology class, and despite the fact that In the Game's story is nearly 20 years old, it was still extremely well received by the students.

A male athlete in the class stated that he was engaged by it because he felt connected to the players and wanted to see if they would achieve their season's goal. A number of female students who played sports in high school but not college said they could identify with the players who were challenging gender role expectations as they pursued their athletic goals.

A non-traditional female student who had never played sports said she identified with the story since she grew up in the Title IX era and currently feels the same forms of resistance in the military that the female athletes/coaches described. A male student (not an athlete) commented that the story was inspiring and showed how much harder women had to work in order to receive equal treatment from the fans and athletic department.

Additionally, I feel the documentary illustrates the benefits people can gain through sports -- learning about teamwork, building confidence in multiple areas of life, learning how to bounce back from failures/disappointments, taking direction and constructive criticism, gaining discipline, etc. If girls are steered away from sports, then they are steered away from a major social institution in society that if run properly, can be extremely helpful in life.

Finally, indirectly, In the Game shows the benefits of affirmative action, which is exactly what Title IX is -- a government mandated intervention that calls for educational institutions to make serious progress towards gender equity in all facets of education; it seeks (at least in theory) to do away with educational gender discrimination by leveling out opportunity in law schools, med schools, athletics, and so on. In turn, it significantly alters society's cultural attitudes toward's women/girls in sports.

The only tidbit I feel the documentary missed was when it discussed briefly how women's collegiate basketball was outlawed in the early 1900s in order to "protect" women's health; the narrator should have stated specifically that "protecting women's health" meant making sure they did not damage their reproductive organs, showcasing how women were valued as mothers and confined to the domestic sphere. The documentary also illustrates "co-option," or women essentially entering a male-oriented sphere in greater numbers without truly changing the system.

Unfortunately, the documentary can no longer be ordered through FRONTLINE (the copyright has expired), but try locating the VHS copy in your school library. I cannot say enough good things about In the Game. And here's where the "protagonist," Jennifer Azzi ended up. You go girl!

Hegemonic Masculinity Run Amok in Gran Torino

So Clint Eastwood's lastest flick, Gran Torino (2008), has been heralded as a wonderful film that casts Hmong actors in its lineup and tells a compassionate story of the Hmong community's plight while it adjusts to American culture. Likewise, it supposedly illustrates a rigid, white male's self-reflection as he matures, and learns to accept his immigrant neighbors of color. Hmmmm, really?

Not so. Gran Torino follows the recycled racist and sexist storylines that have historically been associated with Asians and Asian Americans in American cinema. A quick look at the cast:

Walt Kowalski: The white knight who swoops in to save Sue when she's accosted by the dangerous black men, to teach Thao how to be a "real man," to avenge Thao and Sue from the evil Hmong gang's wrong doings, and to save the entire Hmong community by benevolently sacrificing himself. This guy can whoop ass even in his old age. Within the local context of the film, Walt is the bastion of hegemonic masculinity. A similar blast from the past - Mickey Rourke in Year of the Dragon (1985).

Thao: Good guy, very likeable character, but let's face it, the way Thao is presented follows age-old racist/sexist stereotypes of Asian males. He's occupationally inept, verbally passive, asexual, and physically meek. Even his own family questions his ability to be a male leader. At one point, while role playing on how to be a "real man" with Thao and Martin (Walt's white male barber), Walt says to Thao, "Don't talk about having no job, no car, no girlfriend, no future, no dick, okay, just turn around and go." Of course, Thao does get a job, a car, a girlfriend, and consequently, a dick, courtesy of Walt's meticulous guidance. Couldn't have done it without the white man. A similar blast from the past - Long Duk Dong in Sixteen Candles (1984).

Sue: Also a very likeable character, Sue has quick wit and a defiant tongue. When the three black males harass her, she retorts, "Oh great, another asshole who has a fetish for Asian girls? God that gets so old!" But in the end, when push comes to shove, Sue needs Walt to pull up in his pick up and save the day. Likewise, Sue confronts the Hmong gang, both physically and verbally. Naturally after Walt assaults one of the gang members, Sue is kidnapped and sexually assaulted by the Hmong gang. Thus, one of her key functions in the film is to increase the tension between white knight Walt and the villainous Hmong gang (which is likewise one of Thao's functions). A similar blast from the past - not sure, but there probably is one.

"Spider" and the Hmong gang: "Spider" (far right, kind of cut out in the picture) is cousin to Thao and Sue, and leader of the Hmong gang that assaults Thao twice, kidnaps and sexually assaults Sue, sprays their house with a machine gun, and generally fulfills the role of the devious and extraordinarily dangerous Asian gang. Research has sensationalized the tendency of Hmong gangs to use guns, kidnap people, and rape women without properly contextualizing why these gangs emerge in the first place (Straka, 2003), which has a history of Hmong adolescents' strain in school, limited occupational opportunities, and general poverty (Wang, 2002), not to mention a structural history of global displacement stemming from Hmong people's exploitation by the CIA during the Cold War (Chan, 1994). In any case, the Hmong gang members, like Walt, exemplify a violent masculinity, but theirs is presented in an excessively criminal form (conversely, Walt's violent masculinity is heroic). Similar blast from the past - Jet Li & company in Lethal Weapon 4 (1998) and quite frankly, there are countess examples of this typical Asian male character and/or Asian gangs in American film dating back to World War II (Marchetti, 1993).

Youa: Another likeable Hmong character, but again, one that fulfills a long-standing stereotypical role in American film. She essentially functions as a means for Thao so that he may inch closer towards acheiving hegemonic masculinity. Her character never really develops in the film, except that thanks to Walt's guidance, she and Thao eventually do begin dating. She serves to develop Thao's character as a socially acceptable man. Oh, let's not forget her nick name, "Yum Yum," given to her conveniently by Walt. The only difference between Youa and previous female Asian love interests in American film is that the guy is usually white and she sacrifices her expendable self for him. Similar blast from the past - Suzie Wong in The World of Suzie Wong (1960), and like the Asian gang members, there are tons of similar "Suzie Wong" examples throughout American film history.

Father Janovich: Another benevolent leader in the film, who works with the Hmong community and seeks to counsel Walt. Nothing really wrong with Father Janovich's character, but are we not surprised the other leader in the community is a white male?

African American harassers: Given the racist and sexist stereotypes that abound in Gran Torino, it just seemed all the more fitting to have three black males sexually harass Sue and intimidate away her "Eminem" wanna be white male companion.

The Grumpy Sociologist Conclusion: Audiences are supposed to watch Gran Torino, get all warm and fuzzy, and think, "Oh, that was such an honor to the Hmong community. It really showed how they struggle in America. And what a great guy that Walt was. He really matured throughout the film and did such a great thing to save Thao, Sue and their family from that hideous Hmong gang!"

Well, if that's how audiences interpret the film, THEN THAT'S HEGEMONIC MASCULINITY OPERATING AT ITS FINEST!!! In order to tell its story, Gran Torino relies on the most typically racist and sexist notions of helpless and dangerous Asian immigrants/Asian Americans, juxtaposed against white male saviors that have been presented in American film over and over and over for decades.

[Update 10/8/09: Since almost everyone who comments on here seems to disagree with this post (that's expected since that's precisely what hegemony does), let me ask a subsequent question. If the central minority group profiled in this movie was African American, would people still think the movie wasn't racist/sexist? If Walt was telling a young African American male, he had "no job, no car, no woman, no dick...," honestly, the African American community wouldn't have a problem with the movie? Having a white war vet and a white pastor show African Americans the way wouldn't be a problem? Having white writers, producers, and directors portray African American gangs the way the gangs were shown in Gran Torino wouldn't be a problem? No way, it would have been a political mess. But throw in a bunch of Hmong (a very marginalized Asian/Asian American refugee group), and it's fine and dandy.

Gran Torino reproduces racist and sexist dominant narratives (click on the link if you're not familiar with the concept). It's not just about knowing the writers/directors were aware of Walt's racism and deliberately portrayed that; it's about how he became THE central figure in showing this minority group how to be "appropriately" manly and American; it's about racialized relationships. Again, had the Hmong been replaced with African Americans, this movie would not have gotten a pass. Throw in a less well known and politically disempowered Asian American group, and people love it.

Citations:

Chan, S. (1994). Hmong means free: life in Laos and America. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.

Marchetti, G. (1993). Romance and the “Yellow Peril”: Race, Sex, and Discursive Strategies in Hollywood Fiction. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Straka, R. (2003). Violence of Hmong gangs and the crime of rape. FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin, 72, (2), 12-16.

Wang, J. Z. (2002). Preliminary profile of Laotian/Hmong gangs: a California perspective. Journal of Gang Research, 9 (4), 1-14.

Movie Review: The Wrestler

For those of you who grew up watching professional wrestling, you probably know of the movie, The Wrestler, which came out earlier this year (DVD available today). The movie stars Mickey Rourke, who plays aged out professional wrestler, “Randy ‘The Ram,’” a man who knows one thing and one thing only – performing inside the squared circle. For his performance in the film, Rourke was nominated for an Oscar.

Outside of knowing how to slam his opponents to the canvas and pop the crowd, “Randy” holds no other sustainable occupational skills, largely because his identity is entrenched solely in pro wrestling. Despite having a serious heart condition and coming off surgery, “The Ram” looks to have a booming finale against his arch nemesis from yesteryear.

While professional wrestling is hardly equivalent to mixed martial arts (MMA), there is overlap in that the two industries offer fighting (one version scripted, the other version real) as a form of entertainment. And given the buzz that has recently ensconced the MMA blogosphere regarding Chuck Liddell’s apparent retirement, perhaps coming a bit too late, we can see further similarities, with performers hanging on too long in an enterprise that brutalizes the body.


The Wrestler also stars Marisa Tomei, playing “Cassidy,” who like “Randy ‘The Ram,’” struggles to uphold a career in a commodity-based industry that requires a youthful aesthetic appeal – stripping. Thus, “Cassidy” and “Randy” play off one another, coping with similar identity crises in different ways (Tomei was also nominated for an Oscar for her role).

More importantly, both "Randy 'The Ram'" and "Cassidy" live in hegemonic mascline environments that privilege and discriminate in very rigid terms. Consequently, the two characters find difficultly in escaping their unbending confines that perpetuate different types of violence inflicted upon men (physical) and women (sexual).

However, The Wrestler also exhibits a warped sense of camaraderie among men. It portrays a violent space where men attempt to support and protect one another, oddly enough, through the distribution of steroids, pain killers (including alcohol and recreational drugs), and a method of distributing pain to an extreme threshold so that comrades are not seriously injured, at least not in the short run. This all to put on a theatrical performance for predominantly male fans who crave varying levels of violence.

Critics who associate professional wrestling with MMA as a way of de-legitimizing the latter do not have adequate ground to stand on. Socially responsible and professional mixed martial artists take their sport seriously in the same ways as similar athletes from other sports, where mental and physical preparedness is taken to levels many cannot comprehend.

If anything, The Wrestler is a commentary on the commodification of human life – the degree to which humans commodify each other, allow themselves to be commodities and/or are manipulated as such, and where society dismisses the violent, commodified process so we may be entertained.

At a more abstract level, The Wrestler is not just about professional wrestling or simulated sport. It is a violent, but profound film about life and the limited occupational options many in society hold.

For an absolutely outstanding interview with the Director of The Wrestler, Darren Aronofsky (you can listen to it or read the highlights), click HERE. For a look into Jackson Katz and Sut Jhally's superb academic analysis of professional wrestling's extreme patriarchal nature (which The Wrestler does not address), click here - Wrestling with Manhood: Boys, Bullies & Battering.