There’s been a ton of ink spilled already on
Lena Dunham’s “Girls”, and as usual I’m late to the party, since I don’t have
HBO and I had to download the last two seasons on my tablet in order to watch
them—which I only just did over the course of the last two weeks. But I figured
I’d put my two cents in anyway. I have a lot of thoughts, not necessarily about
the show itself, but about the controversy surrounding it.
Two of the main complaints I see being leveled
at “Girls” is that people can’t relate to the characters, and that Lena Dunham is
naked too often. I want to address the relatebility issue first, since I find
it a bit troubling. I understand that most of the characters on “Girls” come
from unusually privileged backgrounds and that most of us never had the
built-in safety net that they do. I understand that the show has issues with
racial diversity, considering that it’s set in Brooklyn. But I don’t understand
how anyone could fail to empathize with these characters. They are so
well-written and nuanced that even I, a forty-three year old whose life doesn’t
resemble theirs in the least, am imaginative enough to empathize with their
suffering and see many parts of myself in them. My life does not have to exactly resemble their lives for me to
be able to recognize in myself Hannah’s untenable longing, Marnie’s crippling
desperation to control her image, and Jessa’s trauma-driven self-destructiveness.
Yet I read a great number of articles from writers who are seething with
resentment over the fact that the characters don’t share exactly the same
background, financial status, and circumstances as theirs. Has our culture
really become so narcissistic and myopic that there is no longer any ability to
empathize with characters whose lives don’t look precisely like ours? Or is
this resentment towards the characters rooted in some deeper discomfort with
facing our own worst nature?
The characters on “Girls” are awkward and
annoying and deeply flawed. They do stupid, embarrassing things and make the
same mistakes over and over again. They’re selfish, dense, and shockingly
callous at times. That’s what makes them interesting. I don’t need a character
to be likeable in order to empathize with them and enjoy watching them.
Likeability is beside the point. Likeability doesn’t bring anything to the
table but a bland, comfortable experience that goes nowhere. I want to see
characters who screw up, who fail, who hurt themselves and others over and over
again until they finally get it. I want to see characters whose better selves
don’t always win out. No real lessons come from likeability, or from only being
able to relate to those who look and act exactly like us.
The controversy over Lena Dunham’s on-screen
nudity rages on, and I think it’s time that we just admit why: because we find
it outrageous that a female with a less than perfect body would dare to frankly
display her naked self to world without shame or apology. If Lena had the body
of supermodel, this would be a total non-issue. But she has an average body,
with fat rolls, ample thighs, a jiggley butt, and small breasts. And she rocks
it. As I got deeper into the show, I found myself having two reactions to her
nudity—a profound feeling of relief, and a deep sense of loss about the amount
of time I’ve wasted being self-conscious and hating my own body. Hannah Horvath
is not burdened with the conviction that she doesn’t deserve good sex because
her body isn’t perfect. She feels entitled to the same privilege that men enjoy—a
good experience in the sack regardless of her physical imperfections. She doesn’t
apologize or suck in her stomach or make disparaging remarks about her body to
men she sleeps with. And to many people, this is a source of spittle-flying
rage. Lena Dunham isn’t playing the game properly. She’s portraying a young
female who prioritizes other things in her life besides dieting, and who still
gets plenty of sex and affection. And that flies in the face of everything women
are taught to behave like and think about ourselves. She’s subverting one of
our most powerful weapons against women—body shaming. I for one, thank her deeply for it. It’s been
a very healing experience for me to witness her rebellion--and her chubby,
lovely stomach.
--Kristen McHenry
2 comments:
You could send this entry in to any number of publications that publish movie and TV series reviews. I saw an ad on craigslist just a day or so ago looking for movie reviews. And some of these places pay .20 cents and more per word. I read a lot of profession movie reviews online (on amazon and CBS and cable) and yours is up there with theirs!
Thanks, John! I appreciate your confidence in me. I'm going to seriously consider that. I really enjoy writing review and hey, if I can make a few bucks in the meantime, why not?
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