In Praise of Difficult Women

Fuck off, Don Draper, Walter White, Tony Soprano, et al. The age of the male antihero is over. Sure, you’ve had a good run. And, fuck, look at all those shiny, shiny Emmys. But I’m sick of praising all these Difficult Men. You’re “damaged” and “complex” and “tough” and “violent” and “immoral” and yadda yadda. But your time has come and now it’s our time. Welcome to age of Difficult Women.

Granted, there have always been Difficult Women on TV and in pop culture. But they’re usually the nagging voice to be suffered through by Difficult Men. But not anymore. Now they get their own shows and change to shine. And it’s glorious, just fucking glorious.

There’s been a lot of talk recently about how there will never be successful female antiheroes in the media. How there simply can’t be a female Tony Soprano. And, while I agree it’s a different and difficult road women have to travel than men because of – let’s face it – sexism, that doesn’t mean we aren’t around.

There have been others. Nancy Botwin. Patty Hewes. Jackie Peyton. Beatrix Kiddo. Lisbeth Salander. And now we have three stellar new shows – “Orange Is the New Black,” “Orphan Black” and “The Fall” – all revel in the world of the Difficult Women. These might not be antiheroes in the sense of being hypermasculine men who treat the women in their lives like shit and will resort to any means necessary to succeed up to an including murder. But they are antiheroes in the sense that they aren’t traditionally likable, noble or conciliatory female roles. These are women with full agency – or coming into their own agency by way of a year long-stint in prison – who don’t give a shit about being polite.

Orange’s Piper (a whitebread princess thrown into prison and forced to confront herself and fundamentalist methheads), Orphan’s Sarah (a street kid who is no stranger to the long con who fights against an international clonespiracy with lethal force) and Fall’s Stella (a brilliant detective chasing after a serial killer who has no problem with one-night stands and no interest in making nice) are all antiheroes in their own way. They take the traditional narrative of a female heroine and turn key aspects on their head.

I think one of those key elements of a good female antihero is the pushback. Pushing back against the expected. Against the preconceived notions of what we should be, as heroines. This is more than about physical strength, the easiest way to signify a “strong woman.” This is about allowing women to be fucked up and flawed. Allowing women to exist outside the “chick flick” genre. Allowing women to be their own heroes in unheroic ways. That makes them, in some people’s eyes, difficult. And in my eyes, fucking fantastic.

p.s. I finally figured it out. Taylor Schilling of OITNB looks like Heather Armstrong of Dooce. There, you're welcome.

The Fall Gal

Thank the television Gods for the BBC. First BBC America brings us “Orphan Black,” a rich, complex, thrilling clonespiracy starring the dazzling Tatiana Maslany. And now BBC2 (now streaming on Netflix) brings us “The Fall,” a rich, complex, slow-boil psychological cat-and-mouse game starring the magnificent Gillian Anderson. The next time I see a Union Jack I fully intend to salute it in thanks of this bounty of quality roles for women on my television.

A few of you have recommended “The Fall” to me in the past few weeks, and I’ve finally taken your advice and had a look. While the pace is entirely different than the edge-of-your-seat addiction of “Orphan Black,” “The Fall” has a deliberate tone and thoughtful reserve that cannot be denied.

Mostly this comes from Gillian herself, who has refined her talents to a fine point over the years. She makes the most of silence, letting it wash over her all the while we know underneath roils an even sharper mind. I love actresses who can play intellect well. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that she has also grown elegantly into her features over the years as well. Seriously, Scully grew up quite nicely. Quite nicely, indeed.

While “The Fall” moved slowly, at times almost too slowly, it’s the performances and uncomfortable luxury of seeing the mundane and horrifying daily life of a serial killer that keep you there. It gives basically nothing away to tell you that former “Once Upon a Time” star Jamie “The Sheriff” Dornan plays the killer, as it is revealed in the opening minutes of the first episode. Though with short hair and face scruff, I kept thinking he was a dead-eyed Ashton Kutcher instead.

I’m only through three of the five-episode season (it’s more recurring mini-series than regular series), but I’ve also truly appreciated the show’s unvarnished look at sexual politics. Gillian’s senior police investigator Stella Gibson is a no-muss, no-fuss, wham-bam-thank-you-man kind of lady. And she does not appreciate, nor tolerate, the double standard that says guys who have sex are super studs and gals who have sex are unqualified sluts. Ladies can have and enjoy sex and still be good at their jobs – big shocker. Nor does she want to perpetuate the virgin/whore pigeonholes women get pushed into. It’s something that needs to be said more, on television and everywhere else because it’s still fucking happening all the damn time. (p.s. Slightly off topic, but like come fucking on, Serena Williams, you should never say about a 16-year-old rape victim, “I'm not blaming the girl, but…”)

Now I could talk about ingrained sexism and slut shaming all damn day. But what you really want to know is is there any gay in “The Fall.” Well, of course, kittens. No spoilers, but we do find out there’s a gay gal in the mix. And just to make the talent pool even more ridiculous, we also get some Archie Panjabi because too much of a good thing – that “thing” being gifted actresses working with smart material – is never enough.

I’m hoping, in the last two episodes, my patience with the show pays off (don’t spoil it for me, folks). But either way a second season has already been commissioned. So more Gillian being smart on TV seems like a pretty good deal to me.