My oh my
oh my. Where to even begin? Surprise!
Erica has a lot of thoughts on gender- in the world, in theatre, in earbuds…
But I digress. Let’s get into it, shall we?
Although our modern day understanding
of gender is ever changing and complex, feminism and the relationship between
men and women seems a good place to start. I therefore bring you bell hooks and
Jill Dolan. If you were ever (like me) a little foggy on what it meant to be a
“feminist,” or rather a player in the “feminist movement,” these women provide
a great jumping off point. hooks begins by inviting us to recognize that the
Feminist Movement stems from “a struggle to eradicate to end sexist oppression”
and to deny the existence of “systems of domination…is consistent with the
liberal feminist belief that women can achieve equality with men of their class
without challenging and changing the cultural basis of group oppression.” By
refusing to acknowledge the systems in which women of all classes and races are oppressed, there is no hope of
transforming the idea of Feminism from a mode of identification to a
full-fledged movement.
Enter
Jill Dolan, who further elaborates on the different forms feminism takes on in
society (liberal, cultural, and materialist) and begins to synthesize for us
how these types of feminism manifest in the world of theatre. Dolan writes,
“Feminism begins with a keen awareness of exclusion from male cultural, social,
sexual, political, and intellectual discourse.” In simpler terms: women are always made to feel like the outsider. And
here we begin to be able to articulate what is so troublesome about the
depiction of women in theatre and film. Dolan points out that “Performance
usually addresses the male spectator as an active subject, and encourages him
to identify with the male hero in the narrative. The same representations tend
to objectify women performers and female spectators as passive, invisible,
unspoken.” But what happens when that female spectator “cannot find a
comfortable way into the representation since she finds herself, as a woman
(and even more so, as a member of the working class, a lesbian, or a woman of
color), excluded from its address.” Or, let’s take it one step further: what
happens when the men in the audience no longer identify with the character
played by an actor of their same gender? Oooh, dare I say that the Feminist
Movement is not just about equality of the sexes but perhaps about redefining
our understanding of all gender
norms? And wow doesn’t theatre- seeing as it is a mirror to hold up to society-
seem like a fun place to explore how that understanding manifests itself? Here
we go, now we’re really cookin’!
This
seems a perfect segue to Stacey Wolf and her delightful article on how the
musical Wicked defies (haha
unintentional pun) traditional gender norms by embracing traditional musical
theatre structure to give us an enjoyable and entertaining tale of a love story
between two women. According to Wolf, Wicked’s
“enormous theatrical and financial success” is partially due to “how it uses a
very traditional musical theatre formula, but infuses the formula with newly
gendered and queered content and relationships.” Wolf goes on to point out the
many ways in which Wicked almost
“tricks” audiences, or as Wolf who is quoting Gerald Berkowitz says, guides “an
audience, carefully and gradually, into wanting what was offered.” And what is
offered is a story featuring two female heroines who defy the gender norms and
relationships usually seen depicted onstage. Both Glinda and Elphaba are fully
fleshed out, three-dimensional humans- or witches rather (though, yes, they
have their roots in the archetypes of “popular girl” and “outcast” Wolf points
out that each are more than that) who also happen to both be women. In the
absence of a central plot revolving around a woman’s relationship with a man,
the musical has the ability to be a “contemporary parable: a liberal story
about an individual, power gone awry, and an ignorant, mob-oriented society.” Oh
the possibilities for storytelling that are available to us as a theatre
community when women cease to be just
the love interest!
But we
can’t have a season full of Wickeds,
can we? While the subversive brainwashing of the anti-progressive masses
through catchy musical theatre tunes (mistake me not: I love Wicked) is appealing, it is not realistic that every story can
be told this way. So what then? How do we ensure all stories relating to all
genders are being represented in our world? Enter Sarah Schulman, with some thoughts.
“Of all artistic communities I
have been a part of, theatre is by far the most corrupt. There is pervasive
lying; there is virtually no social contract. Basic human decency in social
interaction is determined by one’s currency, not one’s humanity.”
The kind, non-wave-making good girl
in me doesn’t want to touch that statement with a ten-foot pole. But in light
of certain accusations in Hollywood, it seems irresponsible not to. After all
isn’t that exactly what the #metoo movement is accusing some of the biggest
names in Hollywood of? Seeing women and men’s sexuality as a form of currency
to be traded in in exchange for a role or the promise of advancement.
Schulman’s essay, however, is not about the #metoo movement and that
inflammatory statement serves as her jumping off point for addressing how the
world of theatre is stuck in its white, hetero, male preferring ways. By
operating under “the illusion that they [the people of theatre] are neutral”
theatre makers have been able to get away with repackaging the same stories
over and over. But fear not! Schulman has some solutions to offer and they are
not just slaps on the wrist for the men of the theatre world (though there are
some of those: “Male playwrights: get over yourselves” being one of my faves).
According to Schulman, it is as much the duty of female theatre practitioners
to advocate for themselves and each other – “start acting like men, instead of
acting for men” and “do not just ‘yessir’ your benefactors.” Though perhaps my
favorite of her approaches is her plea to theatregoers to “talk about what
plays MEAN.” After all: “No other art form is this affirming about mortality
and the way we witness each other’s lives.” Doesn’t that just give you warm
fuzzies?
And
finally we come to Hir, a play that
is part trans-pronoun guidebook, part transition experience brought to life,
part quasi-reality with a Christopher Durang tinge of absurdity and part
demonstration about the fluidity of gender performance in the world as well as within
a specific family unit. Chock full of educational lines like, “You must use ze
instead of the pronouns he or she and you must use the pronouns hir…H.I.R., in
place of the pronouns her or him” as well as wonderfully poetic sentiments
like, “Everyone is a little bit of
everything, Isaac. We’re simply us. Hir” the play paints a world that is almost
gender-less. Or rather the characters adapt slip into and try on different genders
like hats or nightgowns.
So
here we are at the meat of it: this week I want to talk about “universality” in
theatre or performance in general. Is Hir
an example of a truly universal play? Can you think of and name a universal
piece of theatre or film? And if you can’t, think of a piece of theatre/film
you’ve seen and investigate how it could be made more universal with regard to
gender? Is it a matter of simply fleshing out female characters to turn them
into real people? Or does it require something deeper? Is there anything to be
gained by continuing to produce plays and films that reinforce our established
gender norms? Or must we break the system and the traditional way gender roles
play out onstage in order to build a newer, better, more universally
representational system?
So yeah. Tackle that.
And please someone for the love of
God talk about Wonder Woman. I’m
already way over my word count, so I’ll spare you. But there’s some great “male
gaze” related stuff here…
No comments:
Post a Comment