Rose Richard
My boyfriend can’t understand why I don’t want to see “Spiderman.” I have several reasons. The first is that I never dug Spiderman, or any other movies or cartoons based on comic books. I did not spend the halcyon summer days of my childhood in a tree house reading about the adventures of Superman or Batman or Jay and Silent Bob. My childhood fantasies revolved around unicorns and ponies, not cool tool belts or a kick-ass car.
Sure, I had my share of male superheroes. I could not let a weekday go by without viewing Jon and Ponch and the other folks on “ChiPs.” I still watch “ChiPs” reruns. I love Eric Estrada’s teeth.
However, my childhood movie viewing was fraught with scores of movies about little boys and men getting to have all these great adventures. “ET,” “Neverending Story,” all the “Star Wars” movies, they all had male leads. I am having a hard time remembering a movie where a little girl or a woman got to be large and in charge in an action movie.
These days, we have crap like that one movie with Angelina Jolie where she played some chick from a video game. I don’t care for video games, so I can’t remember the name of the movie. It probably sucked anyway. The “Final Fantasy” movie was okay, but it was a cartoon. Where are the real women?
I’m not talking about Cameron Diaz and her cohorts wearing tight clothes and beating up people a la “Charlie’s Angels.” I’m talking about very sincere ass kickings, the likes of which were handed down by Michelle Yeoh and Zang Ziyi in “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.” Those ladies didn’t wear tight clothes or short skirts. They just threw down and beat up bad guys.
Why can’t a woman be like Bruce Willis? If I had an actor’s equity card, or whatever they call those things, I would make a very good action star. I’m gritty, I say “fuck” a lot, and I even know how to fire guns. I could do all my stunts too. Granted, I wouldn’t look very good in a short skirt, but I have the mother of all racks, so I could make up for my other physical shortcomings by showing some cleavage, because that’s what it takes to make a good female in an American action movie.
I’d like to see Jerry Bruckheimer and George Lucas include a female that can act, doesn’t need to be anorexic, doesn’t have to wear buns on her head and can just destroy all bad guys without resorting to a bad female stereotype. I’ve never broken a nail messing with guns, and even if I did, I wouldn’t cry about it. It’ll grow back, for the love of god.
I’ve decided that Jerry and George don’t need my $7. If they aren’t going to make me or perhaps a more seasoned actress a star in their action flicks, I don’t need to go to the movies. It’s no fun going to a movie that ignores the things you want to see.
I’d much rather rent Hong Kong movies where women are given just about equal play with men, when it comes to action roles. Has anyone seen “Iron Monkey?” It’s a great movie, and once again, women get to do some bad guy spanking, with dignity.
That is why I don’t want to see “Spiderman” or “Attack of the Mutant Star Wars Clones” or whatever it’s called. Women are subordinate, pathetic people who cry a lot, have weird hair, sometimes have guns, but ALWAYS need to be rescued by some geek in spandex or a cloak. Of course, in real life, we would never let geeks in either spandex or cloaks come near us (“Get away from me Renaissance Fair Guy! Your cloak smells funny!”).
Our boyfriends and guy friends and brothers and dads should not expect us to get excited about their weird fantasies. We don’t care if the geek gets the girl. We have different fantasies that may or may not involve Benicio del Toro in a linen shirt. So, don’t expect us to wet our pants with joy when you tell us you’ve planned an evening at the movies.
