A Woman Needs A Man, Like A Fish Needs A Bicycle: 5 female friendships on film
Gloria Steinem's important words in the world of feminism and one of my favourite phrases. Sure, I acknowledge the I'mportance of the men in my life but for me this more rings of the advocation of independence. As far as dependant relationships go, nothing makes me want to run for the hills more. The suggestion that we are incomplete until we find a partner has my skin crawling. That's why when I came across the BFI article listing seven female friendships in films, it got me thinking about something one of my friends once told me -- you should treat your relationships like your friendships, and your friendships like your relationships. It's the suggestion that you should put more energy into the platonic that is represented in my own list of 5 films in which strong female friendships take the forefront.
Boys on the Side
My love of Drew Barrymore may enhance my fondness for this film, but that aside the friendships within it are certainly noteworthy. Though there may be some contradiction of Steinem's statement through a favouring of more traditional roles by some of the characters, the point of relying on your friends to get by certainly remains. It is Robin and Jane's friendship that stands strong in the end, displaying how it is often the one you least expect that will support you even at the hardest points.
Frances Ha
One of my all time favourite films, mainly due to Frances doing everything a little bit differently, you can see my full adoration of the film in a previous post. The protagonist clumsily fumbles her way through the narrative but the premise for throwing her off balance is not a man, but her altering relationship with best friend Sophie. For refusing to focus on the romantic side of life, Frances Ha is refreshing. It manages to display how romance is not only found in sexual relationships, but instead comes in a broad scope of possibilities. If the belief is to be held that there is someone out there for everyone, could that someone not be the closest person regardless of their relation to you?
Me Without You
Noted in BFI's list, I couldn't resist sharing this one. The story of two best friends growing up together, this may not be the healthiest example of a relationship but it displays the difficulties of female friendship when it is sparked from a young age. Learning to grow into your own when a friendship is so much of who you are presents a challenge. There is an exploration of how even our friendships have the potential to be dependant to the point of consuming us.
Ghost World
I will always have an attachment to Ghost World for resonating with what it is like to be on the outside. Enid and Rebecca's friendship demonstrates how it is easier to be different if you have someone to accompany you. Revealing the struggle of maintaining a closeness in the inevitable changes following school, through everything it remains that Enid and Rebecca's quips are still unrivalled.
Death Proof
Tarantino's film may be centred around car chases but female friendships are a pivotal part to the narrative. Beginning with a focus on the light hearted side of things, when a threat is imposed it can be seen how female friendship prevails.
Showing posts with label Frances Ha. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frances Ha. Show all posts
Monday, 21 April 2014
Monday, 13 January 2014
Frances Ha
My favourite film of 2013 came out on DVD last Monday and last night I finally got the chance to sit down and watch it. The film details the life of Frances, a 27 year old dancer living in New York who is struggling with the idea of becoming an adult. Directed by Noah Baumbach, that familiar theme is explored of being unsettled and unfulfilled in life. The difference here to the director's previous work is the undeniable spark of hope that comes through in the film.
Played by Greta Gerwig, Frances dispels an awkward self consciousness which is only emphasised by the situations she is placed within. At a dinner party with other adults she is noticeably aware of herself, which makes for uncomfortable yet reassuring viewing. After a particularly insightful comment, Frances blurts out 'I sound stoned... I'm not stoned' and we are reminded that sometimes it is incredibly hard to take yourself seriously.
The spark of the movie comes from Gerwig's always endearing performance and her brilliant portrayal as her character clumsily fumbles her way through life. Combined with the little bouts of humour that continually pop up throughout the film, it's really hard not to fall in love. Baumbach's direction is beautifully sculpted. Through scenes that are often incredibly brief he manages to perfectly reflect the heroine's own erratic personality.
Certainly, the film is incredibly romanticised. Noah's choice to use solely black and white footage emphasises this. Made in the early stages of Baumbach and Gerwig's own relationship, the lens seems to capture the couple's own private romance. Despite this, one of the reasons I personally adore the film is that it doesn't focus on Frances's relationships with men. Instead this takes a back seat to the more poignant romance between her and her best friend Sophie, who she continually notes is the same person as her but with different hair.
Really I think I see a lot of myself in Frances (although I do have a tendency to project myself on to film characters). Living independently for the first time, as I struggle to go about simple daily tasks I often wonder when I will finally feel like an adult. Perhaps what the film realises is that this never really happens and in reality we are all just fumbling through life. Some of us are just better at pretending we know what we're doing. As Frances notes 'I'm not a real person yet' and a comfort is found in the fact that perhaps no one ever really is.
My favourite film of 2013 came out on DVD last Monday and last night I finally got the chance to sit down and watch it. The film details the life of Frances, a 27 year old dancer living in New York who is struggling with the idea of becoming an adult. Directed by Noah Baumbach, that familiar theme is explored of being unsettled and unfulfilled in life. The difference here to the director's previous work is the undeniable spark of hope that comes through in the film.
Played by Greta Gerwig, Frances dispels an awkward self consciousness which is only emphasised by the situations she is placed within. At a dinner party with other adults she is noticeably aware of herself, which makes for uncomfortable yet reassuring viewing. After a particularly insightful comment, Frances blurts out 'I sound stoned... I'm not stoned' and we are reminded that sometimes it is incredibly hard to take yourself seriously.
The spark of the movie comes from Gerwig's always endearing performance and her brilliant portrayal as her character clumsily fumbles her way through life. Combined with the little bouts of humour that continually pop up throughout the film, it's really hard not to fall in love. Baumbach's direction is beautifully sculpted. Through scenes that are often incredibly brief he manages to perfectly reflect the heroine's own erratic personality.
Certainly, the film is incredibly romanticised. Noah's choice to use solely black and white footage emphasises this. Made in the early stages of Baumbach and Gerwig's own relationship, the lens seems to capture the couple's own private romance. Despite this, one of the reasons I personally adore the film is that it doesn't focus on Frances's relationships with men. Instead this takes a back seat to the more poignant romance between her and her best friend Sophie, who she continually notes is the same person as her but with different hair.
Really I think I see a lot of myself in Frances (although I do have a tendency to project myself on to film characters). Living independently for the first time, as I struggle to go about simple daily tasks I often wonder when I will finally feel like an adult. Perhaps what the film realises is that this never really happens and in reality we are all just fumbling through life. Some of us are just better at pretending we know what we're doing. As Frances notes 'I'm not a real person yet' and a comfort is found in the fact that perhaps no one ever really is.
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