
There isn’t a single woman on the face of the earth who should be put in a situation where she feels threatened and vulnerable to some type of sexual aggression. Simple as that. What gets glossed over pretty frequently amidst the uproar that is equality and female empowerment is that there are more instances of not getting assaulted on a daily basis that acts of violence towards women.
It’s certain that a huge number of women – of any age – have at one time or another found themselves in a less than desirable situation. Probably a pretty large percentage weren’t able to escape unscathed. And that’s reprehensible. However, taking issue with the film industry and specifically Quentin Tarantino’s work in Death Proof for creating an environment of “fear, which is a powerful agent of social control of women,” seems a bit over the top.
The director has in the past, does in this particular film and will no doubt in the future, feature women in his films that possess a sort of sexuality not found commonly strolling down the street. If it’s perceived as exploitative, Tarantino might not even care. Dismissing the situation as homage to early schlock from the seventies’ is a cop out. But at the same time, the director’s intent can’t have been to perpetuate this culture of fear that finds itself referenced.
Trying to dispel this myth of being a sexist director, though, is difficult when taking a look at Death Proof. The main female players are all scantily clad – one even wearing a cheerleading outfit. And while those short shorts might have upset the legions of radical feminists, not so radical feminists and riot grrrls the world over, each actress in Tarantino’s film had the option of not taking the gig. So while it might still be figured that each scene where viewers feel their on the verge of seeing a butt cheek is an affront on feminism, the actresses made a choice (and making one’s own decisions has a place in feminism, I’m pretty sure) to appear in such a light.
With the mounting fervor around this particular issue in the film, it’s interesting, if not plainly hilarious that Death Proof’s detractors railed against its portrayal of women, but didn’t think the name “Jungle Julia” being affixed to a black character was worth mentioning. One would imagine the liberation of women from man’s tyranny would include black women. But maybe not.
Either way, the film still flopped, but if you have an hour and forty minutes to kill, there’re worse ways to do it.
