Debra Winger |
The film on its merits is not particularly good, I'm disappointed to say. It's occasionally fascinating as hell (when you have interviews with people like Jane Fonda, Alfre Woodard, and Holly Hunter, gold is bound to spout at some point), but Arquette is either too involved or too inexperienced as an interviewer to really get a movement going (Oprah Winfrey did an outstanding episode of Oprah's Next Chapter a few months ago with Woodard, Phyllicia Rashad, Viola Davis, and Gabrielle Union that did a far better job with similar material-a must see if you haven't). While watching Arquette's film, I was reminded very much of another recent film I saw, A Place at the Table, where the film was all about sharing an issue that we know too well. Granted, this may not have been as publicly discussed at the time as it is now (documentaries being so much about their specific place-and-time), but anyone with a brain can see that women have lost out with the globalization of the movie market more than men. Effects films and franchise pictures rarely cast women in lead roles, and when they do, it's frequently in the course of a love interest to the main character. I mean, look at the insanely talented women who have to play second banana to a man in tights: Gwyneth Paltrow, Amy Adams, and Natalie Portman are all Oscar-blessed actors, but they have to stand back and say "get 'em tiger" rather than donning the capes themselves.
Arquette's film simply states the problem, but doesn't take the ballsier step of addressing the solution. Perhaps out of self-preservation or lack of guts from the "powers-that-be" we don't see Arquette embark on any Michael Moore style interviews with actual studio executives, causing an echo chamber of problems and no solutions. You frequently get abstract situations coming from the women that she interviews, but with only one exception (the title character of Winger herself) no one actually names a name. We are left with a vague sense of a problem that we all know exists, but no plan-of-action.
Salma Hayek |
This isn't just about modesty, though. I think that while obviously "having it all" means different things to different people, human nature leaves you restless and wondering what's next. For example, we all have had moments in our lives where everything was working: career, love, family, friends, it was all sublime. But I think when we think of "having it all," we think about having it all indefinitely, which simply doesn't happen. Literally every career or relationship has its downfalls, frequently when you expect or deserve them the most. Things are outside of our control, and I love that Hayek makes this point because perhaps we should retire the concept of "having it all," because certainly your average man doesn't get to have it all either. Very few people do, and no one gets to have it all forever.
Madeleine Stowe |
The theater has also been a huge blessing for women over forty. Movie stars such as Kathleen Turner have reinvented themselves on the stage after Hollywood stopped calling. Broadway also has great roles for women of all ages-can you imagine a Hollywood picture, for example, giving a headlining role to 86-year-old Estelle Parsons, and yet she'll be back on the boards again this spring. In fact, if you list some of the top Broadway musical actresses of the moment, you'd list almost entirely women over the age of 35 (save Laura Osnes and Patina Miller): Audra McDonald, Kelli O'Hara, Patti LuPone, Sutton Foster, and Donna Murphy are the biggest names on Broadway right now, and each one basically guarantees a successful run.
Meryl Streep |
That being said, the documentary is still dead-on when it says that there aren't enough interesting roles for women of a certain age. It wouldn't be so bad if it were specific actors that couldn't find work, but as a collective group, Hollywood doesn't take chances on roles for women still, which is such a shame. Every time a Sex and the City or Bridesmaids or The Help makes a fortune, Hollywood chalks it up as a fluke and we don't get another one until some studio takes another "risk." We just need to keep supporting these films when they come out, even if they're rare, and eventually the money will follow (similar to what I said recently about gay cinema).
And like what I said about gay cinema, I have to put a little bit of chiding into those of us who want to see the films. If there's a large enough demand for certain movies, Hollywood responds. Melissa McCarthy, an actress with almost no previous incarnation to use as a reference point, is probably the best example-the recent knockout hits of Bridesmaids, Identity Thief, and The Heat have made her a box office powerhouse, and Hollywood will probably hire her in anything she wants for the time being. If we want more like her, though, we have to support actresses when they do land those roles to give Hollywood a boost. If your local theater is playing an Enough Said or a Before Midnight and you're waiting until Netflix, what sort of message is that sending to Hollywood? And if your local theater isn't playing these films, insist that they do-business is always supply-and-demand, and does a theater really need three screens for The Smurfs 2?
Those are my long-winded thoughts about a documentary with a lot of ambition and not enough courage. What are your thoughts? Which actors do you wish the film industry would rediscover? What actresses are you surprised have retired since this documentary (anyone know what's up with Renee Zellweger?)? And what's your favorite Debra Winger role?
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