Dusty Ayres
Commodore
I just came across this a few minutes ago:
Wow! Reaching much, Ms. Razorblade?
A feminist review of 'The Incredibles'
OK, I admit it: I went to the cinema with my mind already made up about this film. I was not initially excited by the reports of the new cartoon with the amazing special effects, as you’d expect from a childless twentysomething. What drew my attention was a Times feature (my dad reads it) on the director, Brad Bird, which read as follows:
“a smart, knowing and funny parody of the superhero genre that contains a strong family message… perhaps Bird’s most inspired decision was to give his superheroes powers that reflect their place in the family unit. So Mr. Incredible is your traditional strong dad, except that he can lift cars with one hand; while his wife is the former Elastigirl… because, notes Bird, ‘moms have to stretch in 100 different ways each day’.
Oh god, here we go: “the family unit”. Not even “their family unit”, which might involve admitting that gay, single-parent and extended families exist, but THE family unit, i.e. the heterosexual nuclear family. Since few things rankle more with dykes than the reminder that for over 15 years our family units were officially “pretend”, I set off for the cinema faster than a speeding bullet and roughly as agreeable. I had decided in advance that the film would be sexist (which it was) and overtly right-wing (which it sort of was) and would have no Black characters (I was wrong, there were four). I eat my words. Not.
Wow! Reaching much, Ms. Razorblade?
A feminist review of 'The Incredibles'