The Cutprice Guignol

So, over the last week in Britain, some fuss has been kicked up over these adverts appearing on the tube in London:

As you can see, the ads are for a protein shake product that helps with weight loss. Cool. Whatever. The problem arises from the caption; the idea that there is any specific kind of “beach body” is patently ridiculous. I have a beach body right now, in that I have a body and could go to the beach. I understand why there has been such a vociferous reaction (including a march scheduled for today), and I strongly believe that if you see something that you don’t like, you should have every right to stand up against it in whatever way is appropriate. I’m down with that, especially when you consider the fact that a) the advert seemed to be entirely aimed at women and b) was advertising meal replacement supplements in order to lose weight. While I think it’s pretty shit, and that some of the reactions to it have been justified, this is the kind of thing that would make me roll my eyes, make a mental note not to give this company any custom, and move on. But still, if you’re one of the people who tweeted about it, or wrote about it, or got angry about it, more power to you.

But basically, be prepared for a ridiculous backlash. Because not only will the head of the company refer to the critics of this advert as “terrorists”, but the brand ambassador will brush it aside as some “feminists letting off some bra-burning steam” as well as explaining to us clueless fatties that a size 16 is unequivocally unhealthy and that she relied on these protein shakes to get her beach body. Bloggers will start churning out thinkpieces that prove little beyond the fact that they know nothing about feminism. It’s frustrating, as a feminist, to watch hundreds of people screaming from the rooftops about how a number of people not liking an advert and not being afraid to say so means that modern feminism is pointless and hurtful, while throwing out body-shaming nonsense at people they think might not be totally down with this stupid fucking advert. If you want to shout about all feminists being fat cunts who are only jealous of the woman in the advert, you go ahead, but accept that you’re proving the point of the people who are protesting it. It’s Saturday, and I don’t want to spend all afternoon on a feminist rant, because I have movies to see and flats to clean. But what I do want to say is this: you’re more than welcome to go ahead and tweet body-shaming nonsense at everyone who thinks these adverts are bullshit, but every time you do, you’re adding to the shitstorm that caused these ads to be a problem in the first place. If you really want those stupid feminist bitches to shut up about body shaming…stop body shaming.

With my computer fixed, normal service will resume shortly; in the meantime, enjoy this review of the excellent new Netflix drama Bloodline.

Well, this week it’s another jolly topic for the blog: transgender people in fictio. And specifically, why we continually cast men as trasngender women.But my main point of contention is this: why do shows and movies continually cast cisgender men as transgender women?

I’m talking specifically about two of what are arguably the highest-profile transgender roles in a while (OINTB gets a pass here, obviously): Jeffery Tambor in Transparent, and Jared Leto in Dallas Buyers Club. Let me preface all of this by saying that the performances I’m talking about are both bloody excellent and are worthy of all the praise (/academy awards and Golden Globes) that they’ve been showered with. But both the characters that Tambor and Leto play are women. True, the story in Transparent hinges around Jeffery Tambor’s coming out as a transgender woman, so there’s a case to be made that to accurately portray the process, a man should be playing the role. But Leto is playing a woman; regardless of whether she’s transgender or not, she’s a woman. It seems profoundly odd that we’re happy casting men as female characters (or, in more rare cases, women as male characters) as long as their transgender when it might be seen as a bit strange to cast, I don’t know, Evan Rachel Wood as Iron Man (think about it: it would work). While Leto does a great job in the role, it’s arguably kind of insensitive- in a world where transgender people and others who don’t fit within the gender binary are consistently misgendered or have their true identities ignored to cast a man as a transgender woman. It seems to show on some basic level that the filmmakers are tacitly agreeing with the idea that transgender women aren’t “real” women, because they haven’t chosen to genderbend casting on any other characters. The history surrounding Rayon’s gender in Dallas Buyers Club is apparently the reason that a man was chosen to play her.

But then you’ve got the more complex case of Jeffery Tambor in Transparent. As I mentioned above, we follow Tambor through his coming out as transgender to his transition, with flashbacks to his previous life as he came to terms with his true gender. So, I can see why they chose to cast Tambor in this role. But, at the same time, it boils down to the idea that this character is, and, arguably, always has been, a woman. In this bit of casting, we’re agreeing that a man can play feminine, but a woman can’t play masculine. The same goes with Gael Garcia Bernal’s highly-touted performance in Bad Education, where he plays both a pre- and post-transition transgender woman. Sure, it’s not that he’s not good, but once again the people who chose to cast him ignored the possibility that a woman could play both roles just as convincingly. If you need another example, take a look at the much-hyped Eddie Remayne performance in The Danish Girl; pictures released of him in costume as Lili Elbe, one of the very first recipients of a gender reassignment operation, and it seem so to boil down to this idea that there’s some discomfort around casting women in high-profile transgender women roles.

Thing is, I think it’s a good thing that we’re seeing more high-profile roles surrounding trans issues. That’s awesome. But there’s still a bit of apathy around actually casting women as, um, women, if they’re transgender. Don’t get me wrong, if a man is just right for the job and can depict the things that the filmmakers need them to depict best, then great. But if we’re doing that, then why aren’t we holding more genderless auditions that don’t let a character’s gender define who plays them? There will always be something really strange to me about almost exclusively casting men as transgender women, especially in post-transition roles. But I’m throwing open the gates here: what do you think? Have you seen any of the roles that I’ve mentioned, and do you think they could have been performed by a woman? I don’t have a particular answer here, so please jump in in the comments below.

A bonus blog post on the excellent, go-watch-it-now Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.

Now, this week’s installment was going to be on Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, which was awesome and brilliant and had Titus Burgess in it (DID I MENTION I LIKED MUSICAL THEATRE), but I wound up writing that article for Popjunk, and I’ll link it in due course because I think it’s important that you know how fucking excellent that show was. In other news, I’ve decided to start sticking a “Watch of the Week” section down at the bottom of these articles, so even if I hated this show, I’ve still got some actually good TV to recommend.

I finally got round to watching Houdini, the History Channel miniseries about Harry Houdini starring Adrien Brody, which cropped up on Netflix a while ago and became something that I was saving for when I could really savour it, because it sounded precisely like something I would seriously enjoy. And there’s no doubt that I enjoyed it; it was also one of the most spectacularly shit attempts at a biopic I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing in my life. Let’s break this down.

1. The History

I have something to admit here: I’m currently three years into a joint honours history degree that I never intended to take. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed history in high school, but I thought I was signing up for modules when I was signing up for my degree, and turned up and sort of went along with things once I realized my mistake. Next year, I will be graduating with an honours in a subject I never planned to study at university, but stuck with for fear of causing a fuss, because I’m as British as they come. The one thing it did ruin for me, though? Houdini.

Do you want to know what they went with? They went with making Harry Houdini a spy for the American Government.

I didn’t know much about Houdini before watching this miniseries, but there was an immediate “here, naw” reaction when Adrien Brody signed up as a spy for the American Government, using his escape artistry as a cover for espionage. This is bullshit. As in, this is BULLSHIT. It was a theory put forward by ONE historian over ten years ago, who hasn’t backed up his theory with anything other than a message to an intelligence agency signed “HH”. This is a thing that basically didn’t happen. But it doesn’t end there! No, during his visits to Germany, Houdini uses a safe escape trick to break into the German ambassador’s office and steal the Schlieffenplan, which was a very real document that outlined how Germany would wage war against France and Russia by splitting troops across two seperate fronts. While this document would likely have been of interest to foreign intelligence agencies, Houdini didn’t fucking steal it, and he certainly didn’t steal it a year before it was written, as the show depicts. In his dealings with the Russian royal family, the Queen speaks broken English (despite being fluent), Rasputin is shown hanging around the family (he didn’t arrive till three years after the show had him there), and it’s common knowledge that Prince Alexi has hemophelia and that Rasputin is the only one who can ease his pain, which is why the Queen keeps him around, even though Alexi’s affliction was a state secret and not something they’d be discussing over dinner as the show has them do, and Rasputin’s reasons for being so close to the family were, likewise, closely guarded. MI5 turn up decades before they were formed. Houdini’s assistant, played by a wonderfully engaging Evan Jones, is shown to be from Georgia, as opposed to his real-life basis who was from England. They invented a conflict with his father despite the fact Hoduini spoke very highly of his Rabbi pop, and they even got the place he grew up in wrong. The writer of the first half- which was the most egregiously wrong of the two- apparently came out and said he took inspiration from the Guy Ritche Sherlock Holmes adaptations (which are execrable, but fine), apparently forgetting that SHERLOCK HOLMES NEVER EXISTED AND HOUDINI DID, and Stephen Fry’s backside wasn’t going to turn up anywhere to make everything seem alright again. The Sherlock Holmes series works because it’s set in a clearly pissed-around-with version of Victorian London, that features made-up characters doing things that never even became close to happening; using that as a justification for the pish present in Houdini is not that far from using Harry Potter as a reason to have Adolf Hitler shipped off to magic school in Downfall. If you wanted to make a show about an entertainer using his art as a cover for espionage, fine, but don’t attach it to someone who actually existed and didn’t do those things.

Jesus, I’m not demanding every single fact be checked by a thousand-strong horde of historians, and I know that things need to be compressed and elongated to fit a dramatic script, but this is the fucking History Channel. There’s a difference between artistic liscence and making bollocks up to fill space. You’d reasonably expect some people interested in history to be watching; maybe update your knowledge of history past what you remember from high school, eh? It might seem like a nitpick, but it became a hilariously distracting issue for me, and this isn’t even my specific area of study. It jars especially badly with the really well-realized and researched sections on his relationship with spiritualism and his strained friendship with Arthur Conan Doyle, and shows that yes, the writers do know their history as long as it suits their dramatic script. Twenty minutes of Wikipedia would have solved these problems, for Christ sake.

2. Stop Trying to Be Sherlock

I have something horrible to admit: I’m not that big a fan of Sherlock. I would never begrudge someone liking it, and I can see it’s a great show, but it’s never flicked by buttons for whatever reason (apart for that brilliant Baskerville episode with Russel Tovey in it). But it’s insidous influence has leaked all over television, with even Doctor Who absorbing some of the dregs of the show like a soggy biscuit (heh). Houdini so very clearly wanted to be Sherlock, it almost hurt; instead of letting us focus on the always-reliable Brody’s strong, slightly gamine, and uncanny performance, every time Houdini was unlocking a lock or getting punched in the stomach, we’d plunge inside his head (or, in some cases, spleen-seriously) to see how his fiendish brain was working things out. It was slightly interesting the first time round, but swiftly descended into crappy, repetitive showboating, especially when it so constantly interrupted the brilliant scenes of Houdini as an old-fashioned showman flogging his illusions to an amazed crowd. Sherlock is what it is because it doesn’t have to strain to get there; Houdini had it’s veins bulging out of it’s neck trying to prove how slick it was.

3. Kristin Connolly

Now, let’s get this straight: I dig the hell out of Kristin Conolly, who plays Houdini’s wife Beth in the series and who also starred in what is, for my money, the best horror film of the last five years (Cabin in the Woods). But instead of investigating her own interesting life (she worked in showbuisness before and after meeting her husband, and continued with vaudeville acts after his death), she appeared as nothing more than nag and a bore who was basically totally set against Houdini’s occasionally life-threatening acts, despite the fact that the real Beth was nothing but passionately supportive of her husband’s career. She did well with what she was given, but what she was given was little more than a shrieking harridan who’s mother didn’t like her any more because she married a Jewish man. Also, is Kristin Conolly contractually obliged to smoke pot in everything she’s in now, or what?

I guess the most jarring part of all of this is the fact that Houdini still had the potential to be great and indeed showed flashes of that greatness sporadically throughout the series. Houdini’s (real) deathbed conversation with his brother about his lifetime of fakery was powerfully moving, and Adrien Brody’s swagger and electric charm captured Houdini’s own showmanship and playfulness like a photograph. The lengthy exploration of Houdini’s work as a debunker of spiritual frauds was teetering on the edge of utterly excellent, because the show couldn’t rely on endlessly parading out Houdini’s greatest hits to tell a story. But, in coming so close to greatness, Houdini fell flat on it’s arse and I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.

Watch of the Week: In better news, I did discover the superb BBC series In the Flesh which I will recommend to everyone sick of zombie shows who still loves the horror genre. Set in the aftermath of the aftermath of an outbreak, the series follows attempts to rehabilitate zombies with prescription injections and creepy contact lenses. Following a gay teen suicide victim (teenage suicide: don’t do it) as he makes his way back to his rural, homophobic hometown that’s still firmly in zombie battle mode, it’s sensitive, disturbing, and genuinely fresh. Go watch it!

A couple of years ago, I started watching Community. I’d caught a few episodes from the first series when it was first out, found myself ambivalent, and never tuned in, but a vague crush on Joel McHale joined with some idle Wikipedia browsing about what Chevy Chase had been doing recently led me back to the show. And I loved it. I showed it to everyone I knew, sparking off my own little study group of Community fanatics, head over heels for the fast-paced meta humour and Jim Rash in beautiful dresses (did you know Jim Rash has an Oscar for screenwriting? Every time he wanders on screen in another outrageous fantasy confection, my mind shouts “ACADEMY AWARD WINNER JIM RASH” at me and it becomes three times as funny). Then the fourth series spun around, and the loss of Chevy Chase weighed heavily on the show, even more so than the removal of showrunner and creator Dan Harmon. It still made me laugh, but it wasn’t as utterly memorable and instantly quotable as it once had been. The fifth series barely held my interest at all, with the incredible Donald Glover finding work elsewhere and only one or two episodes that I wanted to watch again-and some I could barely get all the way through. The whittling-down of the cast had me wandering the halls of Greendale Community College feeling a bit lost. Even Mike from Breaking Bad couldn’t save it.

This poster is a bit grim, all thins considered. Are the corpses of Donald Glover, Yvette Nicole Brown and Chevy Chase in the back of that car? We’ll never know.

So when I heard about the show’s cancellation, I wasn’t surprised or particularly disappointed- sure, it’s always a shame to see something you once loved go off the air, but I thought Community had it’s best years behind it. If it’s cancellation had saved something like Happy Endings or Suburgatory- both shows culled long before they went stale- I would have thrown Community on to the “out” pile in a second. But that didn’t stop a little quirk of interest when I heard that Yahoo had picked the show up, and would be producing the long-hoped for sixth season (#sixseasonsandamovie) and, like the good little drone I am, I watched the first two episodes when the came out in the middle of the night earlier this week. And I have some thoughts.

The first and most obvious problem is that the show is buckling under the weight of it’s own imagination. That hefty central cast that made up the first through third series-with seven main characters in all- helped the show bring all it’s crazy subplots and sub-subplots to fruition, because there were always people to throw themselves at whatever crazy shenanigans were sweeping the corridors that week. The show felt the loss of Donald Glover and Chevy Chase keenly and, with the amusingly-framed exit of Yvette Nicole Brown (the show’s secret weapon- her occasional bursts of darkness still remain the funniest parts of the early seasons for me),we’re left with only four of the original main cast as season six opens. Sure, in their place we’ve got Jim Rash and Kim Jeong stepping up to larger roles, and their characters are both well-written and superbly performed- but they’re not part of the group. They used to be there to roll by and spurt out a few lines of outrageous, plot-advancing dialogue (or occasionally stage keytar-themed takeovers of Greendale), and they’ve had a lot of the most jagged (and most entertaining) corners shaved off because they’re real-ish people now, people who need to carry plots and emotional arcs. I preferred them as unrepetent caricatures. Alright, I still did a spit-take the first time Jim Rash delivered a reverant “JESUS….WEPT” in the second episode, but it’s nothing on Dean Pelton having a Scorcese-inspired breakdown as he tries to film a new school commercial, or blackmailing Jeff into singing “Kiss from a Rose”. And that’s what my main issue comes down to with this season, and the couple that have preceded it; I never watched Community just because of the outrageous meta-commentary, I watched it because these were actually characters I liked and cared about and related to on some level (I hate to say it, but I’m somewhere between an Annie and a Britta, dating a Jeff-Abed crossover). Their chemistry was impeccable, and each time someone left a little bit of it was lost. This is no criticism to the remaining cast, but you can’t just pluck Monica and Joey out of the Friends group and expect everything to function the same- or be half as entertaining. The lack of cast- coupled with a longer running time of 27 minutes- leaves the show feeling a bit lost and a bit empty. There’s too much time to fill and not enough to fill it with, especially with A and B plots kind of being smushed together because there aren’t enough characters to separate them totally.

But that’s not to say that there weren’t some great moments in the show. Abed’s hilariously unsubtle listing of everything fans were worried about before the show came back was so on the nose that I had to roll my eyes and laugh along; Paget Brewster’s pragamatic Frankie was a welcome addition, a fun and surprisingly seamless entry into the Greendale world that proves they could probably pull off adding a few more characters to the show if they have the nerve and the willingness to piss off old, purist fans. Guest stars- although they occasionally clutter things up a little- were deployed well here, especially a glimpse of the lesser-spotted Nathan Fillion (also, guys, did you know Matt Berry is going to guest-star in this season? Hold on to your fucking hats, because it’s going to get SHOUTY AND FULL OF INNUENDO IN HERE) in the premiere. And, when it comes down to it, I did laugh a few times during these two episodes- the heartiest came at Ken Jeong’s calm description of a cat under a couch which was chewing it’s was through his hand, closely followed by the glimpse we got of Alison Brie’s folder. And while I found the plots less emotionally impactful than they once had been (the one with Britta’s parents was particularly “whaa?”-worthy), there were glimpses of the heart Community seemed to have lost over seasons four and five. Look, what I’m saying is that this might not be the old Community, and it might not even be the new Community they tried over the last couple of years, but maybe this new-new Community will be something to look forward to. Here’s hoping for six good seasons (and a movie).

I take on the Fifty Shades of Grey movie, because my lust for masochism knows no bounds.