River Tam: Sad Attempt At Feminism?

Cracked.com had an article about Hollywood's 5 Saddest Attempts at Feminim, and although I agreed with 4 out of the 5 entries (or at least, the ground reasoning for those entries -like Elizabeth Swan), #3 really makes me scratch my head in wonderment. And actually, also #2, because I'm really not sure if Catwoman was supposed to be such an empowering female figure. I mean, sure, Catwoman is cool and all, but I didn't really get a "Hey! We're totally trying to create a character women will see and go 'Hooray for Feminism!'" feeling from her in any of her reincarnations. Maybe I'm wrong about that, but I don't really think I am. After all, comic books and comic book films haven't exactly been known as the bastion of feminist thought. Look at the most recent Batman for an example, or even Iron Man. Pepper Potts is cool, but she's still kind of one-note and not much of an entity. Same thing with Rachel Dawes. She was a cooler character in Batman Begins, because she was actually given something to do and had an agency and story separate from Batman himself. She was a crusader in her own right. And though the switch from Katie Holmes to Maggie Gyllenhaal made for a more compelling portrayal of the character, Rachel herself was downgraded significantly in The Dark Knight. Hell, she didn't even try to save herself when she was in danger. Harvey Dent did; but Rachel just sat there passively waiting to be rescued. That's not so kick-ass, but it is par for the course. And so Catwoman is just one in a long line of comic book women who is created more on the individual level than as a beacon of empowerment for women. She is created as a notable and interesting and complex adversary for Batman, and really little else. Her story, like Harvey Dent's story and the Joker's story, is meant to mirror Batman's own tale. Which is a cool literary device and allows a deeper introspection about Batman and Bruce Wayne; but does little to create a moral agent of entirely independent thought, because it all comes back to the Batman.

But let's get back to the #3 on that list. The third spot is occupied by one River Tam, Joss Whedon creation and one of the main characters on the prematurely cancelled Firefly and follow-up film Serenity. The problem Cracked highlights?

"Despite River's inherent ass-kicking abilities, she rarely uses them to the benefit of the crew. The character has been driven insane by her experiences, and therefore she spends most of her time saying crazy things and throwing up on her brother's bed. In fact, protecting River forms the backbone of no less than five out of thirteen episodes, plus the theatrical movie. That is a lot of rescuing for a feminist hero."

And as backup for this critique, they pulled out a crazy woman who claims that Joss Whedon is a rapist. Because all men are rapists, didn't you know? Le sigh. Well, let's take a look at this argument from Cracked, because it isn't all its cracked up to be.

First and foremost, River Tam was not driven insane by her experiences. She was made insane because the government stripped her amygdala. This wasn't just some "weak woman overcome" thing. This was purposefully and medically done to her. It removed her agency, and it was part of the government's plan of turning River Tam into an object and not a subject. And although this is a small nitpick, the throwing up on her brother Simon's bed wasn't because of the insanity so much as it was based on her reaction to the drugs Simon gave her to try to conteract her insanity. So it isn't like Whedon created a crazy female character who went throwing up everywhere willy nilly. Secondly, protecting River and Simon from the government is a main theme, not because they are weak and need protecting but because they are fugitives from the law. That is a lot different than a Rachel Dawes situation. Thirdly, I don't know where they get that five episode count. From where I'm standing, protecting River was just one storyline in the pilot episode; Bushwhacked had a different backbone of introducing Reavers and the Alliance stupidity full on, with keeping Simon and River away from the government playing an adjacent role to the primary theme. Ariel is about gathering more information about River's condition and pulling off a daring heist. Objects in Space is about River being smart enough and able enough to take control of a dangerous situation and utilize her talents to protect not only herself but her newfound family and home. Safe is really the only episode that is about protecting River. Fourth, and this may be a bit of a nitpick as well, a lot of River's talents aren't strictly inherent. She had the ability to become an ass-kicker, but she had to be trained by the government. She isn't Buffy. She is a girl who was used.

Fifthly, this criticism put forth by Cracked may be a valid critique if not for two caveats, one being that River Tam is hardly the only kick ass feminist heroine on the ship (Zoe comes immediately to mind as another); and the second caveat being that this is actually kind of a traditional feminist narrative. Think A Doll's House. Think The Awakening. Think The Yellow Wallpaper. Hell, think Wide Sargasso Sea. All, with varying levels of success on the part of the female protagonist, start off as an examination of the female as the object, as something to be controlled and possessed. Nora escapes; Edna swims out to sea; the protagonist in The Yellow Wallpaper goes insane and then begins to crawl; Antoinette goes insane and decides to take her own life. River Tam is among these narratives, with Zoe Washburne representing another narrative.

River Tam had something taken from her, she was broken, and through that she became stronger and overcame and fully grew into a self-defined entity. And yet, even when she is broken by a government who wanted her as an object, as a weapon, we are told outright that she is "a person, actual and whole". Her journey is powerful because it doesn't come from a place of film-exploitation. We don't see the horrific things done to River in an attempt to titillate us; we don't see what has been done to River at all. Even her brief nudity in Serenity (the episode) is meant to emphasize her vulnerability and her odd openness to the world. And through it all, though she has been beaten and broken and used like a thing, she is someone who comes into her own; she becomes someone who is able to control her talents -talents that had made her object in a different situation- in order to fully set herself and her companions free. And that is the thing Cracked's list doesn't seem to recognize: River's journey in Firefly and Serenity is the journey toward empowerment. We don't meet her already empowered and powerful. We meet someone who has had horrible things done to her; we meet someone who has been sacrificed for the greater good. And through her journey, she becomes a feminist icon.

Another Superhero Movie Done Right

Though that, in a way, was because the emphasis was less on the "superhero" than it was on the villain and antihero of the piece. I'm not going to say much in a review of Dark Knight, because everything to be said about the acting, direction, how it is lightyears ahead of the last film, has already been said. Rest assured, the script is better than the last time around, the action is better than the last time around, and Heath Ledger as the Joker really is as good -if not better- than all of the reviews have been saying. He steals the film, just like he stole all of that money. He's like Jack Nicholson in Easy Rider, with the caveat being that Dark Knight is actually enjoyable and a good film when Ledger isn't on screen. That makes his performance even more incredible, because the initial thought upon seeing him every time he appears isn't "Oh thank God!" like it is with Nicholson. And let me just tell you this: I Believe in Harvey Dent. Aaron Eckhart was phenomenal as well, though overshadowed by Ledger both in performance and in surrounding hysteria. That's okay, because the Joker is a larger than life character and Two-Face... ...isn't. I'm still a little fuzzy on Christian Bale's appeal though, both as an actor and Batman. I'm over my intense loathing of him and think he did a much better job this time around; but again, that could very possibly be attributed to the fact that the Joker's story and Harvey Dent's story were also in play.

But what really interests me is the philosophical message of the film; I know I promised not to bring up Joss Whedon again for a while, but the whole interplay between the Joker and Batman reminded me powerfully of this line in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer season 3 episode "Enemies":

 

FAITH: What are you gonna do, B, kill me? You become me. You're not ready for that yet.

I find those two thoughts to be present throughout Batman's struggle with the Joker, and consistent with Joker's nihilistic views on society and civilization and human nature. The Joker "knows" he is going to win, because the Batman has to kill him; by killing him, Batman becomes the Joker; by becoming the Joker, Batman transcends. He has pulled back the veneer of civilization and rules and decency and become what he is meant to be. Or, alternatively, the Joker wins because Batman doesn't kill him, thus can't stop him, and Gotham burns. Either way, things look pretty damn good for the Joker, whose core belief is that humanity is at its heart as twisted and black and chaotic as he himself is; and while he can imagine one person -a man in a batsuit- being incorruptible (though it is important to note that he still takes pleasure in the idea that it can be done), he cannot imagine that there are more than one in the world; or, at the very least, within Gotham's city limits. And he believes he proves this by destroying Gotham's golden child, Harvey Dent.

The Joker embodies what Batman could turn into, what Batman is all but poised to become. The Joker is a man for whom rules do not apply; Batman is a man for whom rules do not apply. The Joker is a man playing at being a maleficent god among men; if Batman kills him, he takes up that mantle. Batman can no longer protect Gotham, because he has then turned into something Gotham needs protection from.

Batman, the character and the comic book (or, graphic novel) exists on the edge of a knife. His brand of vigilantism is not so much a form of justice as it is an extension of the police force. And that is what allows Batman to be someone to root for, to actually be a superhero instead of a thing to be feared. Batman's position in the city as its protector is tenuous at best, both in terms of his own assertion of that position and the city's tolerance for that position. His overall objective is to clean up the streets by working within the established system as much as possible. He goes where the police can't; he does what the police can't do. But although he stops crime, he still depends upon the judicial system present in the city to judge and punish the criminals. He is just a human -though a billionaire- dealing with the problems and tribulations of humans. If he crosses the line, if he begins to actually become judge, jury, and executioner of even one person, then he loses the ability to truly be Gotham's protector. Bruce Wayne doesn't want to be a god among men; presumably because he knows that although the justice system is flawed, it is still a better form of rule than one guy -with all of the emotions and flaws that implies- flying around in a batsuit.

There are several moments in the film I find especially interesting: Harvey Dent brings up Caesar, and states that he believes that form of rule is at times necessary for security. This -and the line "You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain"- sets up Dent's descent to Two-Face. Because Batman isn't a Caesar; he is perfectly happy to leave ruling to those in the light. Kill the Joker, though, and Batman becomes exactly that. And so, he cannot. Harvey Dent, however, does become a Caesar-like figure, someone who is more than comfortable being the man who holds the power of life and death over those he deems responsible for criminal acts.

The second moment in the film of importance is the ferry scene. As soon as it becomes apparent that even the worst dredges of the city still have a bit of the civilization the Joker despises as being false, as soon as the people refuse to play his game, the Joker loses. He only wins if we let him win; and there were casualties, but there would be greater casualties -even if they would be casualties of things like moral agency and personhood and the republic- if the Joker won in any real way. And so, Batman refuses to play the Joker's game, refuses to be corrupted and twisted. And the Batman wins; which is really the point of the whole thing. Nihilism is philosophical death; belief that we can achieve something better and beyond ourselves, whether through a god or works of man, is life-affirming. The movie, for all of its bells and whistles, succeeds in that it takes three separate men and shows their journeys -shows the successes and failures and pros and cons of each one of their ventures. And demonstrates how Batman's philosophy is the only one that truly works out of those three, even though it brings with it its own downsides and issues. So, kudos to that.

There is, however, a problem with lack of female presence in the film. Rachel was pretty much turned into a Woman in the Refrigerator character. And that was pretty much a bad. But gender in Batman (and comics on the whole) will have to wait for another time, because I'm still riding a high off of what this movie actually did accomplish.