3 Short Paragraphs (Or Not): Don't Worry Darling

2022, Olivia Wilde (Booksmart) -- Netflix

Kent didn't really spoil it for me. I mean, it was obvious from the trailers, that the movie was of the "everything is not as it seems" ilk, so it was just a matter of the how. Was it a simulation? Was it an experiment in control, but very very real? Who are the captors? Are they aliens? Mad Scientists? Is it post-apocalyptic outside the walls of the idyllic Palm Spring-ian community? Are they vault dwellers?!?! There were many possibilities, so the accomplishment comes not from the reveal, but from the depiction. And it was depicted incredibly well.

Alice (Florence Pugh, Black Widow) and Jack (Harry Styles, Dunkirk) live in a perfect pseudo-50s world in a supposed experimental community called the Victory Project. Each day the men drive off if their shiny cars into the desert. The women stay at home, cleaning, shopping, lounging around pools, visiting with friends, cleaning, cooking, making everything perfect for the return of the men. Of note, a lesser movie, one that would have been a straight-to scifi thriller that would end up with car chases & shootouts in the real world, the lives of the women wouldn't have mattered. But, here, we do see they do live happy, albeit rather unfulfilling, lives. Sure, they are cooking & cleaning for their men but they also get a lot of what can be boiled down to spa time. And isn't that the conceit of modern living? That women want nothing more than a nice home, a great husband and time at the spa?

Yeah, makes me cringe too.

The initial happy life is pretty convincing. Its endless sunny days, drinks by the pool, dancing and drinks at night, frolicking and sex at night. Good sex. Great sex. Sex between the prettiest of people. Knock all the dishes off the table kind of sex. Except, very quickly things seem off. Even if Alice hadn't seen a plane flicker in and out of reality, hadn't gone into the desert like she's Not Supposed to Do, things seemed ... strained. Once they do, the perfect life seems a little frazzled, threads coming loose, perfectly coifed hair coming undone.

Fragile Male Egos. The movie is smart to go light on the MRA overtones, the incel aspects that men deserve a perfect cisgender, hetero, sex slave world because they are men. Through Alice, the movie is more about her, instead of them. The movie was lazer focused on the experience by way of Alice. And, while I am biased, Pugh was incredible.

One final comment, on something specific. Alice briefly escapes, but is grabbed and reconditioned and shoved right back into the world. The next morning, Jack says goodbye, and Alice is seen in that ultra male fantasy state, standing on the front doorstep, wearing only his shirt, cuz if anything, the incel mind is so fixated on stereotypical "look, we have sex!" male gaze fantasies. The scene was (insert chef's kiss emoji) perfect. And chilling.

We Agree.

Battle Of The Sexes

2017 - d. Valerie Faris, Jonathan Dayton -- crave

On Saturday, September 7, 2019 my wife and I sat down to watch 19-year-old Canadian Bianca Andreescu take on the legendary -and formidable- Serena Williams in the final of the U.S. Open.  Andreescu defeated Williams in a tough but very confident 1h40minute 2-set performance, becoming the first Canadian to win a Grand Slam title in singles competition (Daniel Nestor had won 8 Grand Slams in men's doubles and 4 in mixed doubles).  During the awards ceremony, Andreescu was presented with a cheque for US$3.85 Million, the same amount that Rafael Nadal would get the next day for a 4h50minute, 5-set win.  This type of payout for Andreescu would have been unfathomable in the early 1970s, not just because the prize purses weren't nearly that big at the time but also because the women's game wasn't seen as equal to the men's and as such weren't compensated.  The average disparity was around 2.5:1, but at its worst was 12:1 between male and female winners of the same tournament.

Billie Jean King never argued that the men's game wasn't faster, stronger, more dynamic than the women's game, but what she did argue that the women put just as many butts in seats as the men did, sold just as many tickets, so why shouldn't they be compensated the same?  When rebuffed, King and many other women players left the US Lawn Tennis Association and formed the Women's Tennis Association.  The WTA would organize their own tournaments, obtain their own sponsorships, establish their own TV deals, all benefiting the players.  In the cinematic version of these events, King and crew are presented almost as a travelling road show, going from city to city, sharing hotel rooms, managing press together.  It feels not unlike like GLOW only set in the 70's and with less spandex.

The film was sold as sort of a light drama-comedy, and as much as a movie dealing with incessant sexism can be funny, it is.  King, as played by Emma Stone, is the center of the film, not only combating systemic sexism, but also dealing with her homosexuality - something that could have been a career-killer at the time had it gone public.  The film's co-lead (but lesser so) finds Steve Carrell in the role of the affable Bobby Riggs, at the time a mid-50's retired tennis champion caught in a spiral of gambling addiction and questions of self-worth.  A consummate showman, he saw King's plight for equality not as a threat but an opportunity for him to exploit national sexism for his own financial and egotistical gain.  The film lays down the risks that King took in accepting Riggs' challenge but also highlights her intelligence and savvy both on and off the court.

The film negotiates the personal and the public exceptionally well and gives a sympathetic eye to both sides of the picture.  There are actually two villains in the piece, the first being Jack Kramer (Bill Pullman) - a former tennis champ and now tournament organizer - who embodies the worst of male chauvinism in the film (where Riggs is the avatar of casual sexism) - and Margaret Court (Jessica McNamee), the Australian women's champion whose portrayal here is of a staunchly conservative, know-your-place type.

It's an exceptionally well-crafted film, which leads into the titular spectacle which serves as a legitimately exciting climax even if the tennis isn't shot (or played) particularly well.  I always thought of the Battle of the Sexes as an important moment in women's tennis, but it's so much larger than that.  The penetration the event had in the public consciousness at the time - with a viewership of estimated 50 million in the US and 90 million worldwide - made for an important moment in the women's liberation movement, showing that women can compete and even outcompete men.  It allowed for many men to confront their own prejudices (while others would remain in denial and call the event a sham).

Today, women's tennis is the only sport paid in parity with the men's profession.  They may not play the same style of game or the same length of match in a Grand Slam but they are still selling tickets just the same and creating headlines.  One has to wonder if women's sport was compensated the same, would that lend credibility and equality?  Today the WNBA players are calling attention to their pay gap, facing a similar struggle, but there is proof the gap can be closed.

3 short paragraphs: In Like Flint

1967, Gordon Douglas -- Netflix

I had heard the phrase "In Like Flint" sporadically over the first two decades of my life (having actually mistaken it for "In Like Flynn", thinking it was a Tron reference) before I learned that it was a film, discovering that tidbit of information from the audio commentary on the Austin Powers laserdisc (yeah, that's right).  I don't recall if it was director Jay Roach or Mike Meyers who cited In Like Flint as primary influence on the cheeky, sexed-up spy spoof, but I honestly had never heard of Derek Flint, nor either of the films starring James Coburn as a hyper-intelligent, independently wealthy, dramatically sexualized free agent in the spy game.  It still took another 15 years before I even came across Derek Flint, having never seen it in a video store or on television or on line in reviews, on chat forums, or anywhere for that matter.  Frankly, until In Like Flint popped up on Netflix, I pretty much forgot Flint existed (as it seems most do).

After having watched it, I understand why it hasn't remained in the public consciousness... it's not very good.  Moreover, the character of Derek Flint, at least in this film, is only on screen, it seems, for about 1/3 of the screen time, almost like an ancillary character in his own picture.  Even when Derek Flint is on screen, he doesn't have much going for him in the way of discernible character.  He's smart, which we learn from his awareness of super-science like sonor and cryogenics, but even saying the words, Coburn doesn't seem convinced of what he's saying.  Flint also a renowned lover, having three ladies happily cohabiting at his pad, all deifying his sexual proclivity, yet Coburn himself has exceptionally little in the way of sexual charisma or charm.  I actually laughed out loud upon Flint's first appearance in the film (which doesn't happen until about the 15-minute mark) mainly because I had no idea what to expect, certainly not this tall, lanky, gaunt-looking fellow.  To top it off he's introduced "talking" to a dolphin making dolphin noises, and if anything's going to kill someone's reputation as a Lothario, that will do it.  Coburn's general performance as Flint seems to be with a bit of a chuckle, but from the actor, not the character.

The "case" of the film is pure novelty, with a women's coalition making a play to take over the world, and by the time their grand scheme is revealed to Flint (because he never really figures it out for himself), it actually sounds kind of progressive and positive for 1967, but then Flint chuckles it off, dismissing it in an shocking display of sexism that is about the only thing in this film that raises any eyebrows.  It's a tepid, plodding, boring movie, with a modicum of titillation in its opening theme sequence that promises more than it actually delivers.  It should also be noted this is the second of two Flint movies (the first: Our Man Flint) and it plays like we already know all about Flint and his reputation and takes no effort at elaborating or developing it any further.  I have to wonder if, even in 1967, people were all that aware of who Flint was.  He's certainly not as cool as James Bond, and he's far more ridiculous than Austin Powers.