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Archive | Feminist Matters

Bye, Bye Lil Show: ‘Parks and Recreation’

February 25, 2015 in Feminist Matters, Reviews, TV Matters

The time has come to light 5,000 candles in the wind. After seven seasons, “Parks and Recreation,” America’s highest-rated Indiana-based sitcom (hey, its ratings were never very good), is drawing to a close. But while some beloved TV shows seem badly dated soon after their cancellation — here’s looking at your homophobia, “Friends” — this mockumentary series about a small branch of local government will be appreciated for years to come. I could present a million reasons for its timelessness in a color-coded binder but to appease the Ron Swansons among us, I’ll limit the list to five–sort of.

1. The “Fine Wine” factor. The first season of “Parks” was so wobbly that it’s a wonder it was renewed. Leslie Knope (Amy Poehler) was essentially a female Michael Scott; Ron Swanson (Nick Offerman) was a preening bully; even Tom Haverford (Aziz Ansari) was a glib know-it-all without his 1,000-thread-count underbelly. But the show soon got its bearings — phasing out Leslie’s iron maiden mom (Pamela Reed) and mopey Mark Brendanawicz (Paul Schneider); fleshing out Andy (Chris Pratt), Jerry (Jim O’Heir), and Donna (Retta); and bringing in the Frick and Frack duo of Chris Traeger (Rob Lowe) and Ben Wyatt (Adam Scott). Best of all, Knope transformed from a dumb, strident bureaucrat to a brilliant up-and-comer whose heart lacked an off switch. After that, the show got better every year, achieving an unprecedented level of character development for an American sitcom and making the careers of a handful of unknowns. (Case in point: Chris Pratt is the new Marvel darling.) This year the series even fast-forwarded to the “slight future” of 2017 to incorporate such sly-eyed elements as transparent electronics, Shia LaBeouf as a dress designer, and the rando celeb pairing of Jesse Eisenberg and Nicki Minaj. Continue Reading →

All We Ever Wish For

February 18, 2015 in Age Matters, Cat Lady Matters, City Matters, Feminist Matters, Past Matters, Sabboytical

It was one of those days that just kept going and going, and the whole time I had to be on in a very public, TV lady sort of way. By the time I headed home, it was late, and my sense of humor–already eroded by the Winter That Will Not End–had evaporated. Still, when a woman on the subway platform pointed out she had the same hat, I couldn’t help but smile. It’s rare to find another adult who’ll wear the blue-dyed rabbit fur I refer to as my Muppet bonnet. The two of us struck up a chat while her boyfriend–tall, broad-shouldered, with a knitted brow–stood by, clearly not thrilled that his companion’s attention had been diverted. I knew his type well, had made the mistake of dating men like him when I’d been naive enough to conflate size with stability. After a bit it came out we all had been at the same event, and she and I compared notes while he continued to glower. Talking to her while he steamed reminded me of the conversations my mother used to have with female neighbors in the 1970s, all of them talking in lowered voices while glancing over their shoulders lest their husbands catch them lollygagging.

Finally he burst out: “I don’t judge.”

If I’d hadn’t been so fried, I would’ve let his comment go. I saw the quick hunch of her shoulders. Instead, I said, “You can have an opinion without judging.” Continue Reading →

BAM Boho Feminist Glamour

February 2, 2015 in Book Matters, Feminist Matters, Film Matters

On the evening of January 28, the lobby of the Brooklyn Academy of Music’s grand Howard Gilman Opera House was teeming with women and a handful of bearded men who had braved the cold to watch actress/writer/director Lena Dunham interview her friend, filmmaker/writer/actress Miranda July, about the latter’s new novel, The First Bad Man. Wrapped in wool ponchos, vintage furs, and striped scarves, sporting clever bobs and updos, and peering into their smartphones through steamed-up oversized glasses, attendees (no matter their age, race, gender, and sexuality) resembled extras from Dunhams’s HBO show, “Girls.” Depending on tolerance levels for what might be called The New Creative Class – of which Dunham and July are the reigning patron saints – it was either your ideal snowy New York City evening or your worst nightmare. But the conversation itself was so revelatory that I couldn’t help feeling that something groundbreaking – a new feminist bohemia, perhaps – was being hatched. Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy