
conservatism in the 1980s, in particular Reaganism and
Thatcherism, had put feminist principles under the micro-
scope. Central to many feminists at that time was the figure
of the male-bashing feminist, who wanted to gain power by
taking over men’s roles. Much of the criticism of Thelma &
Louise came from feminists who believed that the film
showed precisely this: the two central characters choose to
behave like men. Does feminism mean that women have the
same right as men to hit the road, take delight in blowing up
trucks, and rob convenience stores? Manohla Dargis wrote
in the British journal Sight and Sound that “Thelma & Louise
sells a kind of feminism brut, inarticulate and inchoate. Yet
after more than ten years of Reagan, Bush and the murky
chimera of post-feminism, how many can still speak the lan-
guage of liberation with any assurance?”
However, such comments overlook the fact that Scott’s
film focuses less on violence per se than on the way in which
there is no going back once one has killed, the remorse that
emerges from having acted impulsively with a gun. In spite
of Dargis’s remarks, the film is actually not that violent—a
woman robs a grocery store, a policeman is locked in the
trunk of his car, a truck is blown up with no one in it. More-
over, such comments overlook the complexity of the film’s
ending, which might show the two characters driving to
their deaths, or might also show them rejecting the patri-
archy once and for all and entering a new world of bright
lights and female bonding.
G.I. JANE can be seen as either an extension or a rebut-
tal of the ideas of Thelma & Louise. Whether or not the film
can be considered “feminist” depends very much on whether
one believes that women have to behave like men in order to
be accepted on equal terms. There are certainly some overtly
misogynist references in the script, ranging from the
(unnamed) Flag Officer’s observation that “No woman is
going to last one week in a commando training course,” to the
scriptwriter’s stage direction showing the recruits “glancing
Jordan’s way, cashing in on a cheap wet T-shirt contest,” to the
Commanding Officer Salem’s (SCOTT WILSON’s) observa-
tion that he resents Jordan O’Neil’s (DEMI MOORE’s) per-
fume, “however subtle it may be, competing with the aroma
of my fine three-dollar-and-fifty-nine cent cigar, which I will
happily put out this very instant if the phallic nature of it hap-
pens to offend your goddam fragile sensibilities.” Even
scriptwriter DAVID TWOHY observes later on that “at least
the two of the guys in her [Jordan’s] crew are blue-ribbon
misogynists.” The question is whether Jordan’s deliberate
shedding of her female identity—cutting her hair, her
deliberate decision to share a room with the male soldiers,
and her willing adoption of rituals such as drinking in a
bar—represents a bid for feminine freedom or a willing sub-
mission to masculine rituals. The same ambiguity also applies
to HANNIBAL: Clarice Starling (JULIANNE MOORE) is cer-
tainly a strong woman with a capacity to dominate her male
colleagues, but our understanding of the character is very
much influenced by JODIE FOSTER’s performance in
SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. Linda Mizejewski explains: “[The
film shows] the more complex traits of this character: power-
ful, competent female authority, beauty without glamour;
and a sexual attractiveness that excludes easy categorization
. . . the sexuality of Starling . . . is more acceptable if read
through Jodie Foster, whose persona makes some of these
contradictions or unanswered opinions acceptable.”
By contrast, WHERE THE MONEY IS rejects the oppo-
sition between MASCULINITY and femininity. Rather, it
suggests that men and women alike should be free to play
whatever roles they choose, without fear of peer pressure.
Henry Manning (PAUL NEWMAN) plays a stroke victim, a
gentleman, a religious zealot, and a tough guy with equal
facility; his sidekick Carol MacKay becomes his surrogate
mother, his partner in crime and a telephone operator.
While the film has a wish-fulfilling ending—the two of them
escape the clutches of the law to pursue their lives of
crime—it nonetheless represents a step forward from the
rather hackneyed conceptions of gender in G.I. Jane.
The Ridley Scott-produced IN HER SHOES can be seen
as a post-feminist text, being characterized by an emphasis
on neo-liberal feminine subjectivities (as personified by the
two sisters Maggie (CAMERON DIAZ) and Rose (TONI
COLLETTE) and their grandmother Ella (SHIRLEY
MACLAINE). It also focuses on key discourses such as the
notion of the BODY as the key source of identity for
women—focusing in particular on the representation of
Diaz on the screen; discourses of boldness, entitlement, and
choice; and a belief in the integrity of women’s worlds.
References
Janet Bergstrom,“Androids and Androgyny,” Camera Obscura 15
(October 1988): 36–43; Shoma A. Chatterjee,“Two Women,” Deep
Focus 4, no. 2 (1992): 76; Manohla Dargis, “The Road to Freedom,”
Sight and Sound, July 1991, 18; Chad Herrmann, “Some Horrible
Dream About (S)mothering: Sexuality, Gender and Family in the
Alien Trilogy,” PostScript 16, no.3 (1997): 38; Douglas Kellner, Flo
Leibowitz, and Michael Ryan, “Blade Runner: A Diagnostic Cri-
tique,” Jump Cut 29 (1984): 7; Julia Kristeva, Powers of Horror: An
Essay on Abjection, trans. Leon S. Boudiez (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1982), 113; Linda Mizejewski, “Stardom and Ser-
ial Fantasies: Thomas Harris’ Hannibal,” in Keyframes: Popular Cin-
ema and Cultural Studies, ed. Matthew Tinkcom and Amy Villarejo
(London and New York: Routledge, 2001), 165–66; Kaja Silverman,
“Back to the Future,” Camera Obscura 27 (September 1991):
109–31; David Twohy, “G.I. Jane: First Draft” (6 August 1995).
Unpub. Screenplay, http://sfy.ru/sfy.html?script=gi_jane (accessed
21 October 2008); Sasha Vojkovic, “What Can She Know, Where
Can She Go? Extraterritoriality and the Symbolic Universe in the
FEMINISM
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