Disney... it happens to the best of us

Dagnabbit.

I've been meaning to post for about a week and a half now, but all the ideas in my head have been continually snow-balling to the extent that now it's entirely too intimidating to even begin to expound upon all the things I've wanted to say!

So, for now, I'll simply introduce myself.

Hello, there, fellow cinephiles! My name's Karen, and I love the talkies. Oh, and the silent ones, too. Yes, I am a self-professed film lover who loved films so much that she saw it fit to accrue quite a debt in order to get herself one o' them there Masters degrees in Cinema Studies down at the NYU. In fact, that's how the lovely Pamela and I first met! Accruing debt together (along with fellow bloggers Sarah Deem, Beth Zdriluk, and Michelle Orange)! Since graduating, I've worked for the past few years as a reader and a consultant for various screenplay competitions, film festivals, as well as a couple of independent producers and writers while wrestling with my own drafts of what I hope will some day be produced screenplays. I harbor an unabashed soft spot for teen movies of the '80s and '90s, will stop in my tracks whenever there's a Fred & Ginger flick playing on the tube (in fact, I'll pretty much stop in my tracks if there's anything playing on the tube), and I am a firm believer that some of the greatest television series ever to have been produced in the last decade were all either way underrated or were canceled long before they had ample time to gestate (i.e.: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Carnivale, Deadwood, and Dead Like Me).

My first memories of watching films as a child are typical of the average American kid: Disney movies, watched repeatedly on a VCR, ad nauseam. Even my first recollections of watching films in a theatrical setting were 'Disney-fied': The Black Cauldron (remembered more for its 'PG' rating-- Disney's first-- as well as the Lloyd Alexander books on which it was based rather than for its production values); and a re-release of Sleeping Beauty. Growing up, it was usually my dad who would bring me to see shows, since Mom was typically busy with my younger siblings while Dad was, well in many ways, the "fun one." In fact, some of my fondest early memories of the cinema were made possible because of my dad: discovering the meaning of the term, "beefcake" (after watching The Beastmaster); watching my first really riveting live-action fantasy film (Willow); my first PG-13-rated film (Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves... oh, good god, people, get a grip, it was the early '90s). And it was my dad who first placed the rented video version of The Princess Bride into my 8-year-old hands (I cried upon the rolling of the end credits). Perhaps this is the reason why my appreciation for films has taken on such a personal and more profound meaning now that my father has passed (cancer).

But, enough about me. How about this wonderful blog Pamela has conjured up for our use and pleasurable reading!? Indeed, she and I had been kicking about ideas for this forum for nearly a year before Pamela just finally took the bull by the horns and did something about it! Kudos and many thanks to her indeed!!! Look out for my next post coming soon! 'Till then, T-T-F-N! (That's "tah tah for now," for those of you who are not well-versed in The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh... wow, I'm a dork.)

Oscar Night Tonite!

For the most unintentionally funny Oscar night musical number I refer you to Termite Art, where Rob Lowe is featured with Snow White, dancing tables, and cumbersome star costumes. My favorite is Robert Downey Jr. in the crowd, clapping out his boredom.

From happier Oscar moments...


Ginger Rogers and James Stewart, and...


the lovely Audrey Hepburn.

Enjoy the show!

A few good films (with the occasional men)...

Greetings from Down-Under!

A huge shout-out to Pamela for getting this site up and running. It’s about time a concept like this got off the ground. Whenever talking about cinema, I too am often faced with two conundrums:

1) being told to ‘shut up’ by friends who want nothing more than to simply watch a movie, then go eat ice-cream afterwards without being allowed to speak about it, or

2) resorting (in desperation as a result of (1)) to discussing film with ass-y film types who don’t really want to know your opinion – they only want you to hear theirs (they can often be identified by their horn-rimmed glasses, penchant for quoting Woody Allen and their love of turtle-necks… and of course, anything ‘mainstream Hollywood’ is so proletarian)

Finally a place where we can talk film, get our 50c in (forget 2c) and comfortably do so in our pyjamas with a bowl of ice-cream. Who says you can’t have your Häagen Dazs and eat it?

A bit about me. I’m a self-professed cinephile who unashamedly admits that my list of All-Time favourites includes Aliens, Dead Poets Society, Pretty in Pink, Leon (The Professional), The Lord of the Rings triptych, The Wedding Banquet and Before Sunrise. I grew up in a country town where one of the perks was an outdoor cinema that screened movies several times a week for free. My childhood was informed as much by jaunts to the local BMX tracks as it was by my education at the movies.

I have a penchant for the kooky (once dressing up as Peter Jackson at a fan party in Wellington, New Zealand the night before The Return of the King premiere: Richard Taylor told me I was ‘creepy in a good way’ and then we got a photo together; and I’ve got my Hogwarts outfit all ready to go for this July), and all things fun and film. When I attended my first Film Conference in San Francisco a few years back, I was surrounded by so many other film geeks that I thought I’d died and gone to heaven (this state of delirium was also partially induced by the truckload of Krispy Kremes they had at the snack table).

I am an avid traveler who moonlights as a university lecturer in Media and Cultural Studies. My PhD looked at the iconography, politics and popular memory of youth cinema with a focus upon Generation and post-Generation X. At present, I’m transforming it into a book and editing an anthology on history, memory and nostalgia in cinema. My outside hobbies include taekwondo, gym-ing, running (albeit slowly), listening to music and writing.

I’ve had a particularly good run of movies lately. I kick-started it with Casino Royale (the first few minutes featuring parkour was stunning – as was Daniel Craig in his blue trunks), then Babel (though I could not help thinking: “Is that the only way Westerners know how to film the Japanese? Demure or perverse?”). Susanne Bier’s After The Wedding (Efter bröllopet) (Sweden) was emotionally draining – the cinematography bordered on intensive at times with its frequent extreme close-ups, though never to the point of annoyed distraction. While Mads Mikkelsen put in a fine performance as the anguished Jacob, it was Stine Fischer Christensen (Anna) whose naivety was heart-breaking.

The following two, however, have been the real stand-outs. There was Zhang Yimou’s Riding Alone For Thousands of Miles – a story of personal journey (literally and metaphorically) in which a Japanese man travels to China to film an operatic performer as his last chance to honour and mend his broken relationship with his dying son. The cinematography is reminiscent of classical Chinese paintings that capture the grandeur and vastness of landscapes, which dwarf the humans within the frame. The effect is less isolating than it is harmonious in which human life is but one element of a much grander scheme of life. Then there was Pan’s Labyrinth – a gothic fairytale that captures childhood imagination and relocates it within the nightmare of civil war. The film reverts back to old-fashioned creature effects that make the film more grotesque in quality than that which could be conjured by CGI. The result is nothing less than stunning, and the child heroine Ivana Baquero (as Ofelia) is quite simply enchanting.

Tonight, I caught Notes On A Scandal – a harrowing character study of two women so repressed that their eventual explosion felt like a release valve, although the outcomes are hardly reassuring. Cate Blanchett plays the wisp-like Art teacher, Sheba (described by one Judi Dench’s Barbara as a “white peach”), who has an affair with a 15 year old student. Dench’s Barb deliciously assumes the role of scribe and confidant with a taste for toxic relationships and manipulation. The film lingers in those moments and minute incidences that are edited out of most movies of this type, which is consequently its strength. Philip Glass’ soundtrack underscores the narrative with a tension so thick you would need a knife to cut through it. One scene that sticks in my mind is of Barbara in a bathtub in a sodden-looking bathroom. The water is milky white, giving her skin a sallow complexion. A cigarette hangs limply from one hand stretched up against the wall, the other hand over her bare chest. Her face is hollowed and her hair painfully thin. Barbara narrates: confiding in us that the lack of human touch has made even the brushing of a stranger's hand over hers an almost orgasmic sensation. This is the portrait of loneliness without its romantic trimmings.

That’s all for now folks!

Chokers and Smokers

Last Friday Steven E. Landsburg writing for Slate, in an article entitled "Women Are Chokers," gave us some pretend insight into the problem of discrimination against women in the workplace, and beyond. The issue at hand are a set of statistics that show that women, when in high-pressure situations, "choke" more often than their male counterparts. His whole inquiry is plain weird, and amounts to not much more than "it might be worth looking into." Well, maybe. I mean, there might be some hardwired flaw among women that makes them less likely to succeed in competitive, stressful situations? But after reading through the research used to support his inquiry, it seems the problem is blatant: there aren't enough women in either of the situations used to reverse his line of thought. Among the highest paid corporate executives, merely 2.5% are women, while those that are elected to the National Academy ofScience, have a 9% female population. He reasons:

"Depending on your biases, you can read that as evidence that women are better at science than business, that corporations discriminate against women, or (if you believe that profit-maximizing corporations get everything just right) that the National Academy discriminates against men."

Or you can turn off half your brain to see that 2.5% and 9% are both slim minorities. "Discriminates against men" is probably not the best phrasing to describe the situation. Let's reverse those same numbers: men make up 97.5% of the highest paid corporate executives, and men make up 91% of elite scientists. Now ask that question, "why are women chokers?" Dude, there aren't even enough women in the numbers to give them a chance to prove otherwise. Until those numbers are evened up, this is a rather ridiculous question.

Speaking of ridiculous, the New York Times reported yesterday that Camel has introduced a new line of cigarettes aimed at women smokers. They come in pretty pink and pastel green and black packages to make it look like candy, or a cute cosmetic. Cressida Lozano is the VP for Marketing of Camel at Reynolds America and had this to say:

"The introduction of Camel No. 9 is part of plans to 'focus on products that are ‘wow,’ ' she added, 'that add fun and excitement to the category.'”

Wow. What a great way to make strides as women--not through intellectual pursuits, but through material goods. Big thanks to Ms. Lozano for helping out the cause.

As an avid smoker and wanna-be fashionista, old Britney Spears might be glad to hear about the new Camel No. 9 brand, but more importantly, she and the celebrity world's gone cuckoo. Things are going to snap fast here, I'm afraid. The combination of a slipping singing career, a divorce, and two kids before the age of 26 adds up to some major mental problems, especially when they're played out for the paparazzi. Tack on endless weeks of partying, drugs, and rumored lesbian orgies, and I guess the only thing left for her to do was shave her head and get two new tattoos. It's not so much an "oops I did it again," as it is "oh, fudge my career, personal and family life is going down the tubes." Britney ain't so innocent, but take a look at shows like Celebrity Eye Candy on Vh1 and this clip (scroll down) of her exiting the tattoo parlor, and you'll see she really is about to choke under the pressure of Hollywood.

A Fresh Look! at Filmmakers

Hey Ladies (and gentlemen), got a short film?

Check out the Fresh Looks! film festival, seeking submissions now through March 30th. The festival is directed by Alberto Zambenedetti, a strapping young Italian and PhD student in the Italian Studies department at New York University.

If you have a short movie to submit, check out the guidelines and send it in. Filmmakers will gain recognition from some discerning eyes in cinema, plus the winner gets a monetary prize!

Check out the contest details below, or email Alberto at zambenedetti@nyu.edu.

Welcome to Scarlett Cinema!

Welcome to Scarlett Cinema, a blog written entirely by women in film and film criticism. At this site you can check out a range of ideas, commentary, reviews, and rants and raves on cinema and the media—and from a very diverse group of contributors.

We have writers from top-notch academic PhD programs in Cinema Studies; women in film criticism, who've contributed to reputable film journals and magazines; and finally, an altogether different group of women from within the film industry itself. We all come from different disciplines—a few of us are even in countries halfway around the world, but we have two things in common: we all love the movies, and we have all (to varying degrees) experienced being marginalized by men in either (or both) our professional or academic careers.

The idea for the blog began over a year ago as I spoke with a friend who was frustrated, like me, with being talked over or ignored when in conversation with certain men. The more we talked, the more we realized how often this was happening to us. The circumstances were always different. At the time I was locked into an office job where my male counterparts either ignored me or thought it was a cute novelty that I had an opinion about something. Initially, I was closed-off and a bit critical of myself; I thought I was being too sensitive to the off-handed dismissal from the men I was around. Though, the more I spoke with my friend (and other women) I saw that this was a pattern.

Years ago I brainstormed an idea for a film publication that would include writers from all kinds of backgrounds (e.g. film, history, philosophy, music, you name it), but the more I saw myself go unacknowledged by certain audiences of men, it became urgent to transform the publication into one made by women only. The first step is this blog. Scarlett Cinema is a spot where you can hear what the next generation of women scholars, critics, and film professionals are thinking, and from the female perspective, absolutely. This is particularly important to me since film criticism (and production) is a male dominated field. I’d like to pitch in and change that.

In the coming days and weeks the blog will kick off with introductions from our contributors. Besides fresh perspectives on cinema from women in general, there'll be regional flavor to accent it as well. Two of our academics are from Australia and Singapore; a few others are Canadian (we've really covered the globe here). The rest of us are scattered among New York City, Los Angeles, and Chicago.

Lastly, though this blog is run by women I do not aim to limit its audience to women only. I hope to hear from plenty of fellas out there. We won’t be male bashing, swear. This is a constructive place to read up on the movies from some of the finest female minds around. So bookmark us.

Before I go, you should know a bit about me. I love John Ford (yes, as sexist as he can be) and I'm sort of obsessed with the life and presidency of Richard Nixon. I watch a lot of Westerns, and I'm still trying to discipline myself to finish all 1100 pages of Nixon's autobiography. I love politics, and I bake a mean cookie. If pressured to answer, I would have to say Taxi Driver (1976) is my favorite movie. Though I like Ghostbusters (1984) very much. I graduated from the University of Colorado with two B.A.s: one in History, one in English (with a film minor). In 2005 I graduated from New York University with an M.A. in Cinema Studies and a tremendous student loan bill. Currently I write for a number of film magazines and blogs, and have done freelance web promotion work for the Independent Film Channel (IFC).