Umm...

A friend showed me this Schick Quattro for Women ad that ran recently in the UK. While it's extremely inappropriate (so much so that I'll spare you my comments), it's also too good not to share:

Obsession: Intersection of Race and Gender

The best movies to see with friends are the predictable kind that you know you won't need to pay too much attention to. So Beyonce's new movie Obsessed seemed like the perfect weekend blockbuster to take a break from all of the stress that the end of the semester brings. Not to say that the movie was good by any stretch of the imagination (it was as predictable, melodramatic, and cliche as the reviews suggest), but it did spur some discussion among my friends about the intended message of the filmmakers, particularly to African American woman.

The movie is, for the most part, a 100 minute version of the trailer:

Man and woman are happily married. Another woman becomes obsessed with man after he is nice to her. She convinces herself that they have a relationship and begins stalking him. Nothing stops the woman until Beyonce (...I mean Sharon) steps in and for lack of a better word, beats her ass. The End.

The movie pretty much follows the template of the "crazy female stalker" genre, problematic in its own right, but with the ignored 'twist' of the white woman/black family issue. After hearing my best friend (who happens to be Pakistani and male) yell variations of "don't let that white girl take your man" for the duration of the film and noticing more than one moviegoer express satisfaction that Beyonce's character had "killed that white bitch" on the way out of the theater, I figured I must not have been the only one reading the apparent racial subtext. The movie seems to comment (without actually commenting) on a controversial issue in the black community: interracial dating, particularly white woman with black men. But, perhaps, more importantly, it seems to comment on the 'responsibility' of black women to fight for 'their men.'

No one can stop this woman. Not the police. Not the hospital. Not the man, himself. Until Sharon steps in. The intersection of race and gender is brought to the forefront. Black femininity is constructed as benevolent, but tough. While white femininity is developed as unstable and reliant on overt displays of sexuality. It seems pretty clear who the intended audience of the film is.

Maybe I'm reaching. The racial difference may have, simply, been coincidental. A product of the 'colorblind' America that I'm just not open enough to see. But I don't think so. It seems that the filmmakers are suggesting that black women must play a greater role in combating the 'obsession' of white women with black men. They must not only forgo school and remain at home to raise children (all things that Beyone's character does to show that she's a "good woman"), they must take the lead in ensuring that 'their men' stay 'their men' by whatever means necessary. The blatant sexism of the climax of the film, a "catfight" between Beyonce and Ali Larter's characters, highlights the use of specific racial constructions to comment on the a 'role' of African American women.

Can There Be An 'Us' in Miss USA?

Pageants are notorious for their ability to seemlessly transport viewers back to the days when women were seen and not heard with the mere flip of a channel. As such, they have always been one of my guiltiest guilty pleasures. Every year when Miss USA rolls around, I feel as if I've stepped into a time machine. Back to the days before women complicated things with their calls for equality and cries to be taken seriously. Last night was no different.

There are always the issues of body image as the women parade around the stage in evening gowns and swimwear to be judged by a panel of 'experts' and pseudo-celebrities on some arbitrary scale of beauty or poise or something like that. The fifteen semi-finalists are slated as the perfect examples of how women should look (tall, thin, white, young, blond), smile (even when your not happy), walk (not with purpose, but when and where they tell you to),and talk (as little as possible). One is selected to 'represent' America, easily the most problematic aspect of the entire process.

The 58th Annual Miss USA Pageant had all of that and more, but the most talked about moment by a mile occurred during the question and answer portion of the show:

In YouTube's most watched clip of the day, celebrity blogger Perez Hilton asks Miss California Carrie Prejean about her thoughts on the recent legalization of same-sex marriage in Vermont and the possible extension of the law elsewhere. The unpopular answer that Prejean claims lost her the title illuminates a greater issue about the pageant industry, in general: What about all of the 'Misses' and 'Misters' that this narrow depiction of womanhood misses?

Hilton addressed what he called the answer's 'alienation' of many viewers after the show:

While I disagree with Prejean's answer, issue must be taken not with her specific response, but with the whole idea that some constructed 'ideal American woman' can or has at any point existed unproblematically. I'm a bit surprised by the shocked response from bloggers and various media sources. The issue of alienation can't have been ignored up this point. The entire process is inherently classist (It costs thousands to even begin to 'compete'). While Perez Hilton's question displays a slight mainstream disruption of the 'Miss USA' title as some type of accurate representation of 'American' beliefs, viewers must remember those that do not have a celebrity blogger to ask a controversial question.

A Gay Idol?

As cultural phenomenon American Idol rapidly approaches the end of its eighth season, the media seems to have focused its gaze on one contestant in particular. The New York Times, ABC News, and Bill O’Reilly, along with many others, have been wondering aloud, can Adam Lambert win?

Is Adam talented? Undoubtedly. Popular? Absolutely (After all, he’s been voted in by the viewing public week after week.) Young? Attractive? Entertaining? He’s covered all of the pop star bases. So why is his potential being doubted?

It's clear by the first round of questions on Adam's future in the contest that fans of the show are probably aware of the photographs of Lambert in drag and kissing other men that appeared on the internet in early March, so why are we still discussing this? Is Adam’s sexuality the issue or is his ‘silence’ the problem? Who is writing this as a scandal?

The singer responded to Access Hollywood more than a month ago:

His response, though, wasn't the one expected. Lambert wasn't featured on a magazine cover under the heading "Yes, I'm Gay." He didn't cower in embarassment and he didn't "confess." Adam is effectively challenging the politics of coming out, positioning it not as a declaration but a lifestyle. He is not refusing or hiding, as some suggest his failure to comment either 'yes' or 'no' amounts to. He is just living. By disrupting of the idea that people are entitled to be informed of any 'deviation from the norm,' he is disrupting the idea that his behavior falls outside of some constructed norm of masculinity and sexuality.The question asked is not whether America is "ready for a gay Idol," but whether America is okay with an Idol that does not feel the need to seek public approval for his 'transgressions.'

The new American Idol won't be crowned for weeks so it is inevitable that this will not be the last time the 'issue' of Lambert's sexuality is brought up. But as viewers, we must ask ourselves who is making this an issue and why it can still pass as one.