Thursday, December 22, 2016

Rogue One: A Commentary - By Kate Farence

Note: So today's post has been written by my friend Kate Farence. With a franchise such as Star Wars that means so much to so many people, I thought it fitting that a commentary on the latest edition to the franchise be written by someone whose passion exceeds my own. While I do like Star Wars, I don't meet the level of fandom that Kate and many of my other friends have. (I was terrified of Yoda as a kid.) These stories are very personal to them, and in order to do that justice, I have handed over the reins. 

************************************************************************************************************************************

The thing about Jyn Erso is that she is perhaps the first female character I have seen in a film that could just as easily been a male character. This in itself is a sort of an achievement to me. She is allowed an emotional life that is generally not allowed for the “strong female character” trope. She is less Zoe from Firefly and more Captain Mal Reynolds. Like Mal, she is a flawed character with a criminal past and a heavy nonconformist streak. Like Mal, she is also a natural leader and compels people to follow her, despite her flaws. Jyn doesn’t play second fiddle to anyone in Rogue One. There are few female characters in the realm of sci-fi/fantasy that fit that bill. Jyn Erso is not “plucky” Princess Leia, who is allowed to be sassy and clearly the brains of the operation, but still has to be rescued by a bunch of dudes.

Jyn doesn’t fall in love with a classic example of toxic masculinity; instead, she leads a group of interesting but underdeveloped male characters into a battle that will ultimately result in the victory in A New Hope. She is allowed a hero’s journey a role generally reserved for the male characters. Like in any hero’s journey, Jyn is called to leave familiar surroundings to go on an adventure that ultimately changes her perspective of the world and allows her to become more than she was, much like Luke Skywalker. I find an interesting parallel between Jyn and Luke Skywalker, in that Luke could have easily been a female character as seen in last year’s The Force Awakens with the character or Rey. Not to mention, spoiler alert, daddy issues.

Jyn is as gritty a character as Rogue One’s atmosphere calls for. The movie is in fact a war movie in a way that the original trilogy, the prequels, and The Force Awakens are not. Those stories being based more on retelling myth than telling the story of war and rebellion. I love that about the Star Wars movies, but I also love a good war movie—and Rogue One is a hell of a war movie. It has great action sequences and special effects, and X-Wing battles that may leave you a little breathless. It is also great to see female X-Wing pilots. Rogue One is a movie for its time: a group of diverse people fighting fascism, fighting back against oppression and genocide. And at the center of all of this is Jyn Erso, a woman who is complicated but inspiring. She is played with a sort of quiet ease by Felicity Jones, who gives a grounded realism to a story “A long time ago in a galaxy far far away.”

Of course there were some issues with the film; nothing is perfect. It would have been nice to see Mon Mothma more. She is an interesting female character who has gotten very little screen time. She is one of the most important leaders of an intergalactic rebellion against a fascist empire and she gets almost zero character development. I want more Mon Mothma! And though we have a more diverse cast of actors in Rogue One, there is still only one female character in the center of the action, and though she is a bad ass, I want more Lady Rebels—I mean, would it kill the Star Wars franchise to cast a woman of color in a substantial role? Also, while I might find the fact that it is the male characters are underdeveloped instead of the women personally refreshing, the male characters could use with a bit more character development. The thing that bothered me the most was seeing Peter Cushing’s face superimposed on another actor’s head. It was really distracting and felt weird considering that the actor has been dead since 1994.

But ultimately Rogue One is Jyn’s story, her journey. She is the hero of Rogue One; she is the metaphor for the mission. She is Rogue One if you look at things, to quote a certain bearded Jedi, “from a certain point of view.” Just as Luke is A New Hope Jyn is ultimately Rogue One. She is the mission: without her there would be no secret plans, no knowledge of how to destroy the Death Star. Without Jyn, there is no “hope,” and without Jyn, Luke’s own hero’s journey would have taken a very different course. Jyn is the character who makes it possible to hope, and in a world like ours, much like that fictional galaxy far far away, hope is a precious commodity.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Baby, It's Cold Outside: Shifting Attitudes and Its Effect on Meaning


Cultural norms and social codes of behavior are constantly evolving. Behaviors that were once acceptable are no longer ok. When we begin to look at works of art, how do we adapt our understanding of them? Should we keep them within in their historical context or look at them through our current cultural norms? When does a work cease to be good in the context of the values that we attribute to it?

This is a question that students of literature consistently ask themselves. We look at works of literature through various lenses of literary criticism. The key thing to keep in mind in this context is that one approach to analysis is not necessarily superior to another. However, when we begin to use cultural analysis, sometimes the waters can become muddied when we consider which culture to use. Are we to use contemporary codes of behaviors and norms or those of the author? My thought is that both approaches must be used in order to fully grasp the meaning of the work.

In recent years, the song “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” has become a great example of the push and pull between these two impulses. Frank Loesser wrote the tune in 1944 as a duet with his wife originally performed only for friends at holiday parties. The song features a call and response between a man and woman regarding whether or not they should spend a romantic evening together rather than the woman returning home in cold and difficult winter weather. The female singer is providing reasons why she can’t or shouldn’t stay while the male singer responds to her reluctance with reasons she should stay.

When we look at the song in the context of contemporary society, it certainly has a date rape vibe, especially when considering the line of the woman “Say, what’s in this drink?” In a world where the threat of someone slipping a date rape drug such as Rohypnol into a drink in order to take advantage of her, this line becomes problematic with good reason. Yet, when we look at the acceptable codes of behavior for women at the time of the song’s composition, it is more likely that this line refers to alcohol. Women were not supposed to drink to any kind of excess, especially a single woman in the company of a man where no one else was present. Now, this doesn’t necessarily excuse the line as not being an indication of date rape as alcohol can also be a tool that someone can use to take advantage of someone else sexually. It does, however, make the situation seem less insidious within its historical context.

The other thing to consider is why the woman in the song is reluctant to stay in the first place. In our own cultural norms, a woman who stays the night at her lover’s house is not considered to be as much of a big deal. While slut-shaming is still an issue in today’s society, it is not the same as it would have been when the song was composed. In the song, it can be assumed that the woman is reluctant to stay for this reason. She consistently goes back to what her family might think of her if she does not return at home: “My mother will start to worry / and Father will be pacing the floor.” In this first verse, after thinking about the reactions of her mother and father, she concludes with “Maybe, just a half a drink more.” As I look at this, she does not seem to be in such a hurry to go. This back and forth continues in the second verse when she considers the reactions of other family members: “My sister will be suspicious / My brother will be there at the door / My maiden aunt’s mind is vicious,” but she concludes with “Maybe just a cigarette more.” Ultimately, her decision to go seems to be because she is worried about the talk from people the next day and the implications that will be made in regards to her reputation. The emphasis on sexual purity for women and girls, while still important in some sections of society, does not hold the same weight it once did. This might not even be a conversation that would happen in this context today. This doesn't mean that there is not something dark at play in the song because the female character is feeling unable to express her own sexuality and no longer feels as though she has agency over her own body. This is not, however, something that we can lay at the feet of the male character but rather an indictment of society at large.

The issue that most people have seems to be related to consent and coercion. It’s hard to fully understand the motives behind the two singers. If we look at the song in our more contemporary context, the actions of the male does seem predatory especially when we consider behaviors that women have experienced on numerous occasions when out for an evening. It’s easy to understand the level of discomfort with the situation when women think of similar situations in which they have found themselves. It certainly comes across as a man who is unwilling to take no for an answer, and there is some coercion taking place in the song. The question is whether it is unwelcome or not. Because the woman does appear to go back and forth in her responses, it can be a bit more ambiguous than what we are comfortable with in our contemporary sensibilities. When you look at the fact that this was a husband and wife songwriting team, you could easily look at this interaction as a game in which both parties are aware of the situation and consent has been given beforehand.

None of this analysis should diminish the reaction of the listener to the song. If someone listening to the song finds that it triggers memories of a past trauma, those emotions cannot be disregarded. The point really is that interpretations are never black and white and can change with the lens by which we choose to analyze the work. This discussion is necessary as we discuss the issues surrounding rape culture if we want to progress as a society. It is my belief that we need to understand where we once were as women in order to move forward. As such, dismissing a song as "rapey" by solely evaluating it through the lens of contemporary social issues is just as detrimental as looking at the song solely through the lens of the historical context in which it was composed. We need to dialogue about both aspects to truly understand the lyrical significance.


Tuesday, December 20, 2016

I Was a Female Half-Elf Cleric: Gender Performance in RPGs



Back in the early 2000s, when chat rooms were all the rage, I played in an online RPG. This was pre-Worlds of Warcraft. All of the action was text-based. There were no avatars for characters, so everything that fellow players knew about your PC was due to elaborate descriptions posted in the chat room.

When I was playing in this game, my character was a female half-elf cleric named Arayah. Her alignment was chaotic neutral, and she worshipped the god of mischief, who in this created realm was named Pheylan. Along with a Wisdom score of 18, Arayah had a Charisma score of 17. She was able to use this to her advantage as she would consistently play pranks on other players, usually involving a William Tell type set-up with an apple and a blow dart with a tip dipped in a hallucinogenic drug.

What was perhaps most interesting was how different she was from myself. Where I tend to be awkward in flirting attempts face-to-face, Arayah was confident and able. She had a svelte physique, on display in her skin tight skirt, mid-riff halter top, and knee high leather boots, with long dark brown hair and violet eyes. You know, the cliché woman of fantasy art. This really leads me to a discussion of how we perform gender in these types of games. As a woman, you would think that I would try to avoid stereotype behavior. Yet, I often found myself falling into these tropes head long. For example, Arayah would often act less intelligent than she actually was. I performed my PC gender based on the “Valley girl socialite” archetype. She was the Paris Hilton or Cher from Clueless within this world. This was often used to manipulate male PCs into giving her things. This bimbo act was effective within the world of the RPG, but it makes me wonder what compelled me to perform the character in this way. I have to admit that there was something that felt freeing in being able to be so different from myself. I didn’t feel constrained by the expectations of the real world where a woman is held to higher standards in order to be considered on the same level as men. I was free to be goofy and ridiculous in ways I didn’t feel that I was allowed to in my real life. I was serious college student at the time, in my junior and senior years as an English major trying to figure out what I would do when I graduated. 

But yet I can’t help but wonder why we perform gender in this way? It is a question that also plagues me as an actor. I have been called upon to play male characters on the stage in recent years. When first developing the character, I often resort to the basic tenets of male behavior as we understand them from a sociological perspective. For example, men often inhabit more physical space. This is not just about being larger than women but how men occupy the space around them in terms of body position. Men often stand with their legs farther apart, hands on hips, in what is commonly referred to as a power stance, allowing them to take up more of the space around them. Women, on the other hand, tend to try to shrink themselves in the space. Additionally, I find myself trying to deepen my voice because we understand that the tenor of male voices tends to be in a lower register. Were I to perform a male PC in an RPG, I would likely resort to some of these same traits. I am also reminded of an episode of Big Bang Theory where Raj is playing a female character and often resorts to similar feminine behaviors as I did with Arayah.

What makes this interesting is that in the RPG world we tend to bolster these archetypes of masculine and feminine behavior? In a world where anything is possible, why do we resort to the idea socially-acceptable codes of feminine and masculine behavior? Why do we perform the ideas of gender in the same way we expect them to be performed in the real world? How will our performance of gender in these simulated environments change as our own understanding of gender changes? I would like to think that if given the chance to join a new campaign, my performance of gender of a female character would change. I'd also like to think that transgender characters might also be introduced by players or even a DM as an NPC on occasion. Only time will tell, but it is something to be explored in greater depth as culture evolves.

Below are a couple of videos regarding Gender Performance from the PBS Idea Channel on Youtube that I found particularly interesting: