Theresa Basile

A few days ago, I posted my personal standards for a feminist comedy , and walked away feeling incredibly clever and progressive.  I thought I had all of my bases covered.

But I have never claimed to be a perfect feminist, and one purpose of this blog is to explore and revise my own thoughts about feminism and comedy.  A friend of mine made a very interesting comment about the Bechdel test:

“I’m fascinated by this Bechdel test, because while it’s interesting to consider and think about, I can’t use those criterion as a litmus test on feminist media. I think it ignores a valid, crucial, and to me, an equally important aspect to feminism, which is critique of male power…Sisters should always do it for themselves, but one of the things they should do is demand male power *change*. The Bechdel test…seems to advocate men are irrelevant to feminism.”

She makes an excellent point, and one that I can’t ignore.  The Bechdel test is always in the back of my mind when I evaluate texts, and a story that has no female characters is immediately less interesting to me than one that has many female characters.  But the Bechdel test isn’t the be-all and end-all of what makes a feminist text.  No Country for Old Men has only one female character of note, but she has a very powerful scene near the end of the film that I think is very feminist.  (That’s not the type of movie I will be reviewing here, as it isn’t a comedy, unless serial killers murdering people in cold blood is your idea of a laugh riot – in which case, I’m going to back away slowly and pretend not to know you).  Conversely, how many romantic comedies have I seen where the female characters dominated the story, but were complete ninnies or girly-girl stereotypes, whose contributions to the comedy were giggling loudly and falling down a lot?  Too many to count.

Therefore, I have to add a few more criteria to my standards of what makes a feminist comedy:

– It has to lampoon stereotypes.  The movie or show can be chock full of female characters who talk to each other all the time, but if they embrace every negative stereotype of women or portrays them as gold-digging airheads (or “turnips,” as my aunt would say), that ain’t feminist.  Unless, of course, the text is trying to critique those stereotypes to make a point.  Which brings me to the next standard:

– It has to be funny.  I can’t believe I forgot to mention this before, but in order for a text to be both feminist and comedic, it needs to make me laugh.

– A text that is not feminist is not necessarily anti-feminist.  Some writers like to create comedy without any political agenda in mind.  They don’t set out to change the world with their humor; they just want to make people laugh. Monty Python and the Holy Grail is one of my favorite examples of a comedy that is wholly absurd and ridiculous.  There are little to no prominent roles for women, but that doesn’t make the film anti-feminist.  It’s too silly to be considered a commentary on anything. I can enjoy films that aren’t feminist as long as they’re not blatantly anti-feminist. 

– A woman character is not a feminist just because she Has A Job.  It used to  be that women were stuck in the “girlfriend” or “wife” roles in comedies.  Nowadays, the women are still stuck in the “girlfriend” or “wife” roles, but now they’re doctor girlfriends or lawyer wives – “OMG, that’s so progressive, we’ve come a long way, baby!”  Not quite.

Together, I have a list of seven standards for what makes a feminist comedy, but the list is still open for revision.  I’m also not going to be that picky.  I won’t watch a movie and think, “Well, it’s funny and there are plenty of female characters, but they don’t interact with each other and it doesn’t critique male power, so BACK TO THE FIERY PITS OF HELL WITH YE!”  These standards aren’t the Ten Commandments.  But I will be thinking about all of them when I review a text.

What is a feminist comedy, anyway?  Is it possible for a TV show, a film, a viral video, to be both feminist and humorous?

My initial, derisive response is to say, “Duh. Yes.”  My favorite form of comedy is satire.  Quality satire requires social awareness, and so does feminism.  In that sense, feminism and comedy are harmoniously united in a beautiful marriage (that is unfortunately still illegal in forty-five states).

Still, some clarification is in order.  What makes a feminist comedy?

Speaking only for myself, of course, I offer these three criteria:

– It has to pass the Bechdel test.  The Bechdel Test, for those of you not in the know, comes from cartoonist Alison Bechdel.  She wrote a comic strip called “Dykes to Watch Out For,” in which one of her characters decided that she would only see a movie if it satisfied three basic requirements: 1) the film had to have at least two women in it, who 2) talked to each other about 3) something besides a man.  Now, I can’t afford to be that selective when I choose a movie to watch – if I did, I would never be able to watch a Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter movie ever again, and I am not now, nor will I ever be, ready to sacrifice my Geek Card.  But I do always keep the Bechdel test in the back of my mind when I judge a piece of work based on feminist credentials.  For example, a recent comedy that just barely passes the Bechdel test is Zombieland. There is a brief scene where Emma Stone’s and Abigail Breslin’s characters talk about something other than men or their relationships with men.  (Um…spoiler alert?)

This brings me to my next criterion:

– Women must have some agency in the storyline.  I’m not interested in books, films, or television shows where female characters exist solely to further the journeys of men.  I have occasionally watched films and read books where women were nothing but pawns in the stories of the male characters, and even if the story was well-written, I always felt a little dirty afterward, and not in a good way.

Women having agency in the storyline is a big deal for me.  I want to see a woman make choices about her life, even if she’s not the main focus of the story.  These choices do not even have to be feminist choices. If a female character decides she would rather stay home and have babies than pursue a career, I still consider that a feminist story if the story shows that journey from her perspective.  If a woman in the story has a voice and does not exist only to prop up the male characters, I consider that a victory.

Finally, my third, and possibly most important, criterion:

– The women in the story are as ridiculous as the men.  I’m sick and tired of seeing movies and TV shows where the men get to relive their adolescence and the women only exist as their scolding, nagging Jiminy Crickets to bring them back to real life.  I want to see more shows and movies where the women get to be as goofy and silly as the men.  This is one reason why I’m so immensely fond of shows like Arrested Development, 30 Rock, and Community. The women characters don’t just sit back and sigh over the crazy-but-fun antics of their male friends and relatives.  They participate in their zany, satirical, over-the-top worlds as well as the male characters do, and they do it with gusto!  I will never get tired of 30 Rock, simply because Liz and Jenna are allowed to be as silly and ridiculous as Jack, Kenneth, and Tracy.

Of course, I’ve enjoyed movies and TV that have broken some, or all, of these rules.  Glee, a show that I have an intense love-hate relationship with, breaks the first two rules on a consistent basis and often leaves me infuriated when I would rather be basking in its silliness – but I still watch it, because it passes rule #3 with flying colors.

I have to face facts here: I would have to stop watching most television shows if they were perfectly feminist, and I’m not going to stop watching my stories, which means I will have to come face-to-face with many shows that don’t meet my criteria.  I’m okay with that.  I would rather discuss those texts than ignore them and pretend they don’t exist – otherwise, what would I write about?