We Need To Talk About Lois Lane

The Underrated Brilliance Of Josie And The Pussycats

Five Years Later, And You Still Missed The Point Of Sucker Punch

Showing posts with label Feminism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Feminism. Show all posts

Friday, April 14, 2017


Josie and the Pussycats reached the sixteenth anniversary of its theatrical release this past Sunday and I’m 100% serious when I say that this film is not only wildly underrated but also masterful in its commentary about consumer culture and girl power. There’s so much to be said about Josie and the Pussycats in terms of feminism that I’m unsurprised but nonetheless disappointed that it isn’t talked about more.

At first glance, one would probably dismiss this film as plotless and silly. Roger Ebert himself gave the movie a scathing half-star rating, claiming that central characters Josie, Valerie and Melody are just as dumb as the Spice Girls (neither are, by the way), that the commercial commentary was overdone and that the soundtrack was awful. I never thought I would say this, but you were wrong Roger! Especially for the latter—the soundtrack is iconic.

There’s an ongoing silliness about the movie that’s completely intentional. The message about consumer culture may feel exaggerated to older people but this is something that’s still seen even today. The beginning of the film starts with screaming fans waiting for Du Jour (a rip-off of the Backstreet Boys/NSYNC) to show up before they board their private plane. There are girls, there are guys, everyone is in love with this band. One girl exclaims that she just wants to touch them, she doesn’t care who it is or where she touches them.

This obsessive fandom mentality has been seen with seen with recent boy groups from One Direction to every K-pop group that reaches an international audience. Before, MTV was the primary source to get information and watch music videos but today, we have YouTube. Nothing has really changed except for the outlet that people use to get closer to their favorite bands and groups.

When Du Jour finally boards their plane, the first thing we notice is the overwhelming product placement. The plane is Target themed with household brands such as Bounce and Ivory taped to the overhead. One of the band members complains that his limited addition Coke can features an older appearance that isn’t up to date with his current appearance and you instantly get the feeling that these people are very shallow.


The group members are so focused on their looks in magazines and soda cans that they constantly argue. They’re still friends, but fame and media has dumbed them down. Despite this, they’re still smart enough to realize that MegaRecords, their record label, may be using their music for sinister intentions. This curiosity is what leads to their disappearance and the eventual rise of Josie and the Pussycats.

Du Jour’s actions towards each other is a huge contrast to Josie, Valerie and Melody. These three girls love each other; they’re tight-knit, consider themselves sisters and despite constant setbacks with trying to get a record deal, they know in the end that they have each other. And that’s what always matters: the fact that their friendship and love is the number one priority. They're not manufactured in the slightest—they just want to make music because they enjoy it.

Each girl is their own individual character and that’s what makes them work so well: Josie is the insecure singer who knows she and her friends are good enough to make it big but can’t help but to question why it hasn’t happened; Valerie could be seen as the parent of the group because she’s level-headed and constantly reassures her friends during their moments of doubt, and Melody is a vegetarian animal lover who just wants to spread peace and positivity among everyone. Although Melody portrays the trope of a ditzy blonde, she turns the trope upside down with her in-depth analyzation skills. We relate to and like the girls because they’re genuine and diverse in appearance, which is the first thing that’s threatened when they get signed to MegaRecords.

The flashy product placement in the film is shown to emphasize how often companies insert their brands into society for people to subconsciously take in. Starbucks, McDonalds, Pizza Hut, Steve Madden, Puma—these are all brands that people are actively using and it ties into the bigger conspiracy of how MegaRecords uses music to brainwash their consumers into using products that they deem cool, therefore making society a slave to the brand.


MegaRecords doesn’t care about its clients, they only care about making money—after Du Jour goes missing, it's announced that the label is releasing a limited edition boxset of their discography. They don’t care enough to release a statement about their disappearance, their focus is how much more money can they make off of Du Jour’s name before they’re completely irrelevant.

The consumers aren’t listening to Du Jour, they’re listening to subliminal messages—which are ironically enough spoken by iconic voice Mr. MovieFone—telling them to buy new things. One minute red is in, the next pink is the new red… it’s never-ending. There’s a scene where MegaRecords executive Wyatt goes to a CD store and plays the last recorded song from Du Jour and everyone changes taste again. The only person who doesn’t fall for the message is a goth girl who Wyatt calls a free thinker. The company ends up kidnapping her for brainwashing purposes, thus showing that freedom of expression is a threat to those in power (sound familiar?).

Josie, Valerie and Melody pose that same threat towards the company but they’re so excited about fame that they don’t realize at first. It isn’t until the girls get an instant makeover (to match current trends) and walk outside to see their poster on a billboard that the reality sinks in. Valerie thinks it’s strange that the band is being marketed as Josie and the Pussycats instead of their original name The Pussycats. Josie was already predetermined as the face of the group and Valerie instantly notices that. This awareness is similar to Du Jour’s and because Valerie caught it so quick, she’s at risk.

The mastermind behind this brainwashing mega company is the outgoing Fiona. She displays the typical characteristics of an eccentric villain; she’s flashy, confident and shallow—just like the ads that are hidden in her client’s songs. Although she appears confident in her plan, there’s a hidden insecurity that’s later revealed when the girls go to a MegaRecords party (that’s being promoted with Josie’s face) and she invites them to her room for girl time.

That “girl time” is mostly Fiona fawning over Josie and belittling herself for wanting to eat one Pringle potato chip. She asks Josie personal questions such as how much does she weigh and is only happy when Josie says she weighs 118 and Fiona reveals that she’s three pounds lighter. Despite this, she refers to Josie as “pretty and popular” and the girls are rightfully freaked out. After the incident, Melody echoes Valerie’s previous concerns and Fiona and Wyatt decide that they both need to be taken out.

Josie isn’t oblivious to this either, she’s just as alarmed as her friends but she’s also trying to adjust to her newfound fame and potential love life. Despite the romance subplot between Josie and almost-boyfriend Alan M, it’s never the central issue. The relationship between the girls is always emphasized and that’s why it’s painful when Josie gets brainwashed into believing that she’s the face of the band, something that she actively rejected and was afraid would happen. She’s become the very person she promised herself she wouldn’t and she doesn’t even know it’s happened.


There’s an earlier scene where the girls are on a plane to the recording studio and they’re sitting together in excitement over their sudden luck. They make a promise to themselves to put friendship first and the band second but Fiona’s greedy obsession with popularity led to their conflict. Valerie didn’t want to believe that Josie only had fame in mind but she starts to resent her because she’s become the face of the band and is the only person marketed through magazines and interviews and—surprise—Coke cans. In a way, even she’s brainwashed to think that Josie is the star because that’s how the media promoted the band.

Josie snaps out of the manipulation after falling down and seeing pictures of her, Valerie and Melody. Being able to look past the toxic subliminal message in their songs and see photos of her and her friends together proves that love trumps hate. Valerie and Melody are more important than being famous because friends come before the band, boys and everything else.

Fiona’s ultimate plan is to achieve something she’s never had before: popularity. By using Josie’s stadium performance, she planned to market out the message that she’s coolest person ever. The girls are surprised by this revelation; to have that much power and send out a message as trivial as that is strange to them but to Fiona, it means the world. This is the tragedy of Fiona’s character—she was unpopular in school and teased because of her lisp. Even as a powerful CEO, she isn’t happy. She changed her voice and fit into trends so she could be admired but that’s still not enough.

The biggest twist in the film (other than Du Jour surviving the plane crash and only being alive because they knew the lyrics to Metallica’s Enter Sandman) is that Wyatt and Fiona went to school together and were both unpopular. Wyatt was teased because of his albino appearance so he started wearing makeup to hide his real skin. Both are wildly successful but still feel like they have to hide who they are. Wyatt wipes away his makeup and takes off his wig, prompting Fiona to remove her false teeth and their embrace ends with him showing off his beer belly. They’re finally comfortable in their own skin… only realizing too late because they get arrested by the very government that they extensively worked with.

In the end, the girls are able to play their music to the people and not subliminal messages. Embracing yourself and not what society tells you to is the main theme of the movie, and it’s what the girls did even when questioned or threatened. Josie, Valerie and Melody are all special because they’re genuine and that’s why concert-goers ended up liking their real music. Josie said it best: “It’s cool if you like it [our music]. It’s all right if you don’t. Just decide for yourselves.”

The media is a powerful machine that only continues to be influential. Although the film jokingly shows how popular people and names such as MTV, Carson Daly, Starbucks, Target and more were involved in the brainwashing conspiracy, it’s still a message that’s relevant today. Obviously not with brainwashing, but it is easy to be influenced by what the media says and sometimes you find yourself forming an opinion based on what someone else says because you never got the chance to experience it and decide for yourself. Hell, when Fiona and Wyatt get arrested, they’re told that the government would start sending messages through movies because it’s easier to reach audiences. But as long as free thinkers exist, everyone won’t be controlled by the media. 


Like I said, Josie and the Pussycats has a brilliant message behind it. As culturally dated as the movie is, it’s still a film that was ahead of its time. This movie promoted girl power, feminism and individuality in a time where no one talked about it. Sixteen years later and we finally are but we’ve forgotten one of the hidden gems of the early 2000s that helped us get here.

Growing up, I loved this movie because it was about friendship between girls. Now, I love the movie for that same reason but also the social commentary and the message it emphasized about being an individual. I’m still trying to understand how Roger Ebert missed that but regardless of what any critic says, this is a movie that was made for girls and by girls (Deborah Kaplan co-wrote and directed the film) and in a world that still needs female-driven content, we need to embrace positive representation of women and friendship when we see it.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017


Before Zack Snyder became the comic book director we know him as today, he began his career in a genre that still surprises most. Dawn of the Dead is great for many reasons; the film is a part of a small list of remakes that are as good as the original, it’s genuinely terrifying with sharp black humor and most importantly, we have a final girl who’s just as smart as she is emotional but doesn’t let her weaknesses get her killed. This is a zombie film, after all.

Like all of Snyder’s films, there’s a lot to be said about the role that women have in the story. For Dawn of the Dead, we can instantly tell that protagonist Ana is someone who is used to being pushed around. The opening scene features her and a male doctor; he’s busy making plans for golf on the phone while Ana is holding a ton of paperwork. When she tries to speak up to tell him that her shift is over, he cuts her off to finish his conversation. After he finally hangs up, he asks her about a patient that came in at the beginning of her shift (she makes sure to tell him the exact time, 6 AM) and tells her check on him despite the fact that her shift ended an hour ago.

This type of male arrogance is something that any woman can relate to in and outside of the workplace and regarding the film, it plays a larger role into the power dynamics that we see later on with the remaining survivors. Despite the constant hassle from higher ups, Ana is overall satisfied with her life. We get a sense of how comfortable she is with her repetitive schedule—she goes to work, she drives home, talks to Vivian, the local neighborhood girl, and ends her day watching TV with her husband.

The simplicity of her suburban life is quickly ended the second that Vivian appears mangled and bloodied in the doorway of her and her husband’s bedroom. Ana’s husband is the one to approach her and he gets promptly bitten. Within seconds, he turns into a zombie and Ana is thrust into survival mode. She doesn’t try to approach him like he did with Vivian, she grabs her car keys and runs into the bathroom.

This kind of quick thinking is what makes Ana such a great final girl. These survival instincts aren’t rocket science but we’re all too used to seeing characters make stupid mistakes that could’ve been prevented. Things move fast after that—she jumps out of the bathroom window to run to her car and she sees her previously peaceful neighborhood in chaos. She doesn’t have time to dwell in her shock, she leaves her neighborhood and ends up joining a group of survivors—Police Sergeant Kenneth, everyman Michael and Andre and his pregnant wife, Luda.

They reach the abandoned Crossroads Mall where they escape zombies on the first floor and run into a group of security officers who make them give up their weapons in exchange for refuge. Ana’s interactions with the guards—particularly C.J., the leader—marks the beginning of her challenging that same male entitlement that was seen before. While treating Kenneth’s wounds, Ana tells C.J. that she needs stitches so she can finish the job and C.J. comments, “You a fucking doctor?” Ana replies with, “No, I’m a fucking nurse.”

Unlike the situation with the doctor, Ana and the rest of the group are in a life or death scenario. They can’t afford to question each other’s ability to protect when lives are on the line. We see a similar scene with Michael and Andre; Andre belittles Michael’s leadership because he’s an electronics salesman but in the end, what does it matter? No one will be able to return to their normal lives so they have to adjust to new positions based on their desire to survive.

Although Ana is logical and calm on the outside, she does have her moment to mourn which is cut off by C.J. It’s an asshole move on his part, but it’s also reflective of this new world that they live in. The world has always been unexpected and dangerous but adding zombies to the mix presents an additional set of challenges. Some of these challenges are difficult for people to face, but Ana is one of the few who takes on the leadership role in order to solve them.

The most pivotal moment in the film is notorious zombie baby birth scene. Luda gets bitten but instead of telling the group, Andre keeps it a secret and eventually chains her to a bed when she begins to turn into a zombie. To protect the group, Ana kills the infant off screen. As a nurse, she’s used to caring for newborn children. There’s a sick irony in the fact that she has to abandon that maternal role to survive but she’s seen the damage that can be done by a zombie child and she refuses to risk that for a zombie baby.

That scene also serves as an example of what happens when male dominance takes over a woman’s choice—a recurring theme that we see in the movie. We never find out how Luda feels about not telling the group their secret because Andre keeps her locked away. Ana tries to visit her but Andre dismisses the idea and that unsettles her. Although Luda wanted to have her baby in the beginning, would she still want to if she knew she was going turn into a zombie? Would she have kept the bite a secret if she knew it could turn her child?


These are questions that could’ve been answered with the guidance of someone level headed like Ana. Andre’s obsession with having a family led to his loss of sanity. Luda would’ve had to die regardless because she was bitten but his denial of the severity of the situation led to his death as well.

There’s a cabin fever element to being cooped up in the mall for so long and after the zombie baby incident, some survivors start to act recklessly. Nicole, one of the later newcomers, forms a close bond with Chips, a dog that the group found in the mall garage. Animals are immune to the zombies, so they’re free to run around without the possibility of being bitten. When the group decides to use Chips to transport food to a survivor across the street, Nicole loses it. She gets in the nearest truck to drive to Chips and ends up getting stuck in the same building as the survivor after he turns into a zombie.

One might say people do crazy things when they’re in love but Ana’s newfound love with Michael never got in the way of the overall goal: to survive. She doesn’t resort to reckless behavior or try to run away with only him; she continues her role as leader right to the end. In the midst of chaos, Ana finds a way to keep it together.

The group makes the final decision to go to the marina and take a yacht in order to head to a possibly secluded island. The plan was arrogantly suggested by Steve, who instantly denounces the idea when the group starts to consider it into reality. But at that point, they had nothing to lose; the mall could only give them so much and it was already taking a mental toll on others.

Ana is consistently at the center of group discussions; she worries about others but not in an overbearing way, she just wants to make sure that everyone is okay. Isolation is something that can easily happen even in close quarters and Ana is the one who keeps conversations going to help others feel included. Her role as a final girl leaves a lasting impact.

She doesn’t follow the usual steps that put lives in danger and she even reverses the tired trope of being the last one to make it on the bus when they leave the mall and run into zombies: the group used two buses to get to the marina and after one crashes and they stop to get the remaining survivors, Ana sees that Steve has turned into a zombie.

She shoots him in the head (just like he previously suggested she do if he ever happened to turn) and is about to leave for the bus when she remembers that he has the yacht key in his pocket. Michael is frantically waiting for her to show up and when she comes running into the bus he asks her, “What the hell were you doing?” She shows him the yacht keys and he just smiles.

That observant, but quick thinking is what kicked off her adventure into survival. If she wasn’t aware of her surroundings, if she didn’t care for others, if she let fear and grief consume her, she wouldn’t be alive. But she always remembered the goal at hand and that’s why she’s a final girl.

Ana isn’t defined by her gender or her occupation, she isn’t pushed to the sidelines in favor of men despite how often they challenged her role. She knew her strengths and she capitalized on them to help herself and others. When we put those same traits into context for characters like Lois Lane, Diana Prince, Laurie Juspeczyk and the girls from Sucker Punch, we see a clear pattern that’s frequently shown in Snyder’s films. Not only does Ana represent the feminism that’s essential to his filmography, but she’s also an example of how we need to constantly demand that mainstream cinema represent characters like her.

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