Women in Art: Part 2 — film roles

In our continuing series about Women in Art, we’re focusing on the roles women have taken in the art of film. Since time began, women’s roles in movies were almost always secondary — a love interest, the damsel in distress waiting to be rescued or slightly more interesting, the alluring femme fatale. Much like how women have been viewed in most of mankind’s history and culture of male dominance, women more often than not took the backseat even if they sometimes get to sit up front as a convenient passenger. Even today despite the advances in social justice, great roles for women are rare. But it is getting better; there are more women in movies, increased promotion of female stars and higher salaries. There’s even films produced, written and directed by women. That said, if Hollywood only supports already-approved versions of half-naked and gorgeous-faced females, then it’s not worth getting too excited about. More progress needs to be made and that can only come from a greater appreciation in the diversity of roles, stories and impressions we have of women.

Here, we’ll showcase a sample of films not just starring women but about women — roles that tell their stories, ones worth getting excited about and to be inspired by.

37 Seconds (Directed by Hikari)

I really enjoyed what Hikari (a female writer and director) does here with 37 Seconds — it’s got that feeling of a true story even if it isn’t one. But what is true, is that it stars a new actress who actually has cerebral palsy. Born disabled Yuma (Mei Kayama) is an unknown 23 year-old manga artist who’s trying to make sense of her life, her relationships and her sense of independence. A very fresh take on a coming of age story, Mei’s performance, because her physicality is real, gives the film weight. Her innocent wanderings against her mother’s watchful eye, feel both liberating and yet dangerous. The outside world is both exciting and cruel, especially so for someone in her condition. And the more Yuma explores the universe, the more joy and pain she suffers, but she can’t help but want more of it. She finds truth, both beautiful and ugly. I wish not to give any thing away here, but the film concludes in a fashion that surprises. It’s beyond mere sentiment — one is caught experiencing real courage and generosity that moves the heart in a deep and meaningful way. 37 Seconds is an inspiring film for anyone, but especially so for young woman.

Lost in Translation (Directed by Sofia Coppola)

Sofia Coppola’s gem Lost in Translation is a celebration of youthful wander and wonder. The story begins with a young newly married American Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) who moves to Tokyo with her photographer husband. There she finds herself completely alone, her partner far too busy to spend any time with here as his celebrity-driven career consumes him as it does many in his field. At the hotel-residence she’s staying she finds unexpected friendship in Bob (Bill Murray), an older American actor who’s in Japan shooting an ad for a whiskey company — this is common for past-their-prime Hollywood actors whose celebrity status enables them to secure an income and lifestyle they’ve been accustomed to. Charlotte’s character is both young and innocent, yet sad and lost. We can feel her moments of joy as our own, as well as her melancholy and loneliness. Complemented by Bill Murray’s restrained humour and grace, the two stars make wonderful visual music. Lost in Translation never fails to make me laugh or smile. There’s an exquisitely-controlled sense of the romantic; it’s fun, tender and strangely sincere despite operating in the surreal, neon-coloured atmosphere of Japanese nightlife.

Million Dollar Baby (Directed by Clint Eastwood)

What a film Million Dollar Baby is. A small story about a small town girl too poor, too lost, and too old to become anything in a world as cruel and lonely as the one she inhabits. She, of course, is Maggie Fitzgerald (Hilary Swank) a single 30 plus year old woman with literally nothing except a dream, to become a boxer. She searches out and finds herself in the boxing gym of Frankie Dunn (Clint Eastwood), a veteran Los Angeles boxing trainer who doesn’t really have much more than she does other than the reputation for being a great trainer. After much pleading Maggie coerces the reluctant Dunn to train her, and with the encouragement and help of Eddie Dupris (Morgan Freeman), a former contender who also hasn’t much except his friendship with Dunn, she becomes a world class contender. But the journey to stardom, as compelling as it is, isn’t nearly as powerful as what the journey does to these three characters. As a film, the direction is tight and genuinely emotional and both Eastwood and Freeman do amazing work in supporting roles but the real star is Hilary Swank who wins her second Oscar. Her portrayal is so sincere, so heartfelt, that it makes the ending almost unbearable. But years later, watching the Million Dollar Baby again, one realizes the real message of the film and it’s hidden optimism; Maggie’s story is actually a triumphant one. She was dealt a bad hand at the start and a bad hand at the end, but what she did in the middle — in that short time in a boxing gym — she lived her dream and became happier than she ever thought she could be. It’s a reminder that it’s not the hand you’re dealt that matters but how you play it and in so doing, transform your own life and the lives of those around you.

The Puzzle (Directed by Marc Turtletaub)

Kelly Macdonald is one of the most underrated, underused gems in the acting world. She’s always been a scene stealer — as the wild-underaged Diane in Danny Boyle’s electric indie film Trainspotting, the innocent hand maiden Mary in Robert Altman’s mystery drama Gosford Park, and the adorable Karla Jean in the Coen brothers’ masterpiece No Country for Old Men. In Marc Turtletaub’s Puzzle she finally gets a starring role and paired with the late Irrfan Khan, Macdonald shines big. She plays Agnes, a 40 year-old married mother of two whose life has become so routine, so boring and meaningless that she knows exactly what’s about to happen every minute of the day (she even predicts with perfect accuracy the seconds it takes for her husband to wake up to the alarm). Her life is one entirely devoted to caring for others. The opening birthday scene with it’s muted lighting and carefully subdued staging says it all — Agnes has no life. But during that same birthday party (which was her own) she receives on one hand, an iphone and on the other, which interests her more, a 1000 piece jig saw puzzle. As it turns out she’s a natural at this puzzle-solving business. Completely hooked, she decides one day to head to the big city to find the store where such “difficult” puzzles are sold. There she finds and responds to an ad for a “puzzle partner” for entering into contests. After meeting Robert (Khan) who’s the current national champion, she gradually awakes from her stupor and the two develop an understated care and love for each other as they continue to practice. But as the experience ignites the life inside her it also places her in direct conflict with her family. The message in the film is quiet but powerful: Puzzles may seem like only games for children but here it serves as a metaphor of our need to find order out of chaos, and sometimes the chains of tradition that many of us, and especially women, continue to be conditioned to accept is the very chaos we must free themselves from. Because at the end, the only order that matters is inner order.

Poetry (Directed by Lee Chang Dong)

I love the work of Lee Chang Dong. And in his poignant and subtly beautiful film Poetry, he takes us into old age. In Asia, many older women find themselves single, either as a widow or the old grandmother, who lingers on in society often as a caretaker to grandchildren whose parents are absent. In Poetry, 66 year-old Mija (Yoon Jeong‑hee) is stuck with raising her lazy grandson who may have taken part of an assault and murder of a young girl at his local high school. On top of the burden awareness of such a situation brings, Mija also begins to suffer Alzheimer’s disease. She was once a beautiful and chic women, and still dresses with elegance and good taste despite her poor financial outlook, and this brings added distress from judgemental neighbours in the small town of Busan. So here we have a single elderly women, diagnosed with a dreadful illness, financially struggling, and trying to save her grandson from going to jail. But Mija carries herself onward despite all that is happening and along her journey she ends up signing on for a poetry class. There she’s finds something inexplicable — herself. Despite being in such a depleted stage in her life she experiences beauty through art, through seeing. Poetry is surprisingly deep for such a small-scale movie with limited location set. But it’s a beautiful meditation on the living and dying that happens in an elderly woman’s life, a story that’s often left untold.

Pantomime

Harold Lloyd, seen in his 1923 B/W classic “Safety Last” was a master pantomime actor/director who thrilled his audiences with his story scenarios and mind-blowing stunts (no green screen technology!)

“I’m a big fan of pantomime storytelling, being an animator.” — John Lasseter

Pantomime — the art or technique of conveying emotions, actions, and feelings by gestures without speech— is one of the oldest forms of entertainment in human history. For thousands of years, it has helped tell stories, build our imagination and make us laugh. It has made its home in family rooms and on Shakespearean stages. It has graced film and television since their inception. It’s the quintessence of visual storytelling.

“Pantomime is a big thing in the cultural calendar of my country…” — Alan Cumming

Alan Cumming (seen here with the late Natasha Richardson on the set of Cabaret) is an extraordinarily talented actor/singer/writer whose physical performances make him the star of any show or scene he’s in.

Unfortunately, with the dominance of quick access information, flashy action and snappy punchlines in entertainment today, this craft has lost a bit of its glamor and respect. Except on Broadway stages or standup comedy acts, directors and performers, both in live action and animation, are favoring stiffer choices complemented by dialogue heavy exposition and more extensive camera work (i.e. highly convoluted and often overlong action sequences). Times and tastes may have changed, but wordless performance still has its place in the craft of fine acting and storytelling. In fact, the best acting is often between the lines. Physical action, which constitutes both pose and movement, can sometimes convey ideas and emotions with even greater clarity and poignancy than any dialogue or close up shot. It would be a shame for any performer not to study the power of gesture.

Containing less than 1000 words of dialogue, Walt Disney’s iconic film “Bambi” is one of the quietest films in history. It’d be hard pressed for any modern day studio to create or even allow for the creation of a film told primarily through imagery, music and action, the original bread and butter of not just animated films but of all films.

To me, pantomime is a beautiful yet phenomenally difficult craft to learn; it requires very specific training and endless preparation. Not unlike animation, extensive exploration into character creation and intense imagination is required, as is patience, both on the part of the creators and the audience. It’s a form of acting that delivers ideas in a way that is both timeless and universal, a wordless language that represents 100,000 years of humanity in the making. It’s an illusion of life told through time, shape and space, and nothing else.

Rowan Atkinson is perhaps the finest pantomime actor working today. Originally designed to help him fine tune and explore the depths of acting, his creation “Mr. Bean” has become a worldwide sensation. Watch carefully how he always firmly establishes his character of “Bean” prior to any action or interaction with his environment. Story action and character formation are deeply intertwined and Atkinson, who sports one of the highest IQ’s in Hollywood (178), knows that that’s how we build interest. Executed with superb timing, gesture and clarity, Atkinson’s Bean is always fabulously entertaining.

The best and most iconic of comic pantomimes is Charlie Chaplin.  In “Modern Times” Chaplin creates a masterpiece of comedy and pathos as well as a prescient commentary of the social malaise caused by Taylorism — the economic theory of industrial production and practice that dominates the workplace to this very day. Chaplin’s little Tramp is so carefully constructed from his “stache” down to the flaps of his oversized shoes, that just one look at him tells us who he’s supposed to represent — namely us, the little people. But it’s the Tramp’s never-say-die spirit, inventive adaptability and relentless sense of hope that makes him so likeable and his antics so funny. Despite the fact that his creation is over 100 years old now, Chaplin’s pantomimes are perfectly written, staged and acted and should continue to be studied by actors and animators today.

When people think of pantomime, they usually think only of comedy or full-bodied, high-action performance. Al Pacino may be known predominantly for some of the loudest and most powerful screen characters, but here in Mike Newell’s excellent film “Donnie Brasco” he delivers a most sincere and sophisticated performance. In this last scene from the movie, both the events that are to unfold and the deep feelings inside the character are told with action — highly subdued action. In my humble opinion, Pacino’s portrayal of the aging Lefty, a respectfully loyal but out-of-luck gangster is one of the best and most underrated performances of his career.

In Wong Kar-Wei’s visually sumptuous masterpiece “In The Mood For Love” Maggie Cheung and Tony Leung (who won Best Actor at the Cannes Film Festival for his contribution) deliver some of the most beautiful silent performances ever to grace the screen.  The story is one told with minimal dialogue, elegant framing and the most subtle of gestures and glances. Perfectly supported by Christopher Doyle’s gorgeous cinematography and Shigeru Umebayashi’s hypnotic score, the film is achingly beautiful in theme,  movement and performance. It’s one of my favorite films of all time.

A great tribute to the silent era, The Artist (2011) is a tastefully clever and heartwarming story of love and destiny. Starring Bérénice Bejo as Peppy Miller and the ever-charming Jean Dujardin as George Valentin, the movie displays all the joys and wonders of what silent acting can do to enchant the minds and hearts of viewers, even today.

“I like actors that are good with pantomime and that can transmit a lot by their presence and attitude more than through their dialogue.” — Guillermo del Toro