On Musicals

Prior to taking on your new identity as a Moxie, you were already critical of the media you viewed. Autumn referenced in discussion recently a favorite Onion article of yours, “Woman Takes Short Half-Hour Break From Being Feminist To Enjoy TV Show.” This article, of course, is satire, but the phenomenon is not. Since beginning to identify with feminism, you have realized how little it is taken into consideration with much of popular media, or what a simplified version creators tend to be working from. How difficult it is to fully enjoy things when they were created out of patriarchy.

This has only been exacerbated with your work at the Bronx Family Justice Center recently, as you learn more and more about the effects of domestic violence, both on adults and children. It has made you experience another part of your New York experience with new eyes; the theatre scene. At Duke, you are extremely active in a student-run theatre company, and you love watching theatre, consuming it, listening to it, and creating it. You have long realized that while theatre as a genre is often classist and restrictive in many ways (expensive, overwhelmingly white, overwhelmingly male, overwhelmingly straight and cisgender), it can be used as a phenomenal social tool. Since you arrived in this city, you have seen four shows, three of which heavily featured gender-based violence. The reel of scenes and incidents won’t stop playing in your head, coaxing you to think about a new dimension of theatre and what it does, what it can do.

Beth Malone, playing Older Alison in Fun Home, makes an offhand comment about child neglect halfway through the show. Her father has spent his time onstage criticizing his children, forcing them into clothes they don’t want to wear, being aloof and secretive, and ultimately leaving them alone in a strange room for a full night. To you, “child neglect” seems like an apt and conservative label. The audience around you laughs uncomfortably when she says it, whether because of the content or the sardonic, “whatever” tone the actress delivers it with.

Matilda Wormwood isn’t wanted by her family, in part because she’s assigned female at birth. Her parents frequently verbally abuse her and her father threatens physical violence. Her masculinized school principal Miss Trunchbull (who is played by a man in drag) also frequently impresses violence upon the students at her school, as well as historically abusing Matilda’s teacher, Miss Honey. You have always taken all of these things in stride, as part of the classic tale; you first read the Roald Dahl novel when you were very small. Sitting in the theatre, though, you feel newly unsettled by the dark material coated in excellent theatrical achievements, thinking about the traumatized children that you have been working with.

And then there’s Waitress. You see it with all the Moxies as an enrichment activity. You write afterwards in your reflection that you wish that you could have seen it alone and sat with its themes and problematics on your own. As it was, this was the only show to explicitly address gender-based violence and feature it as a central plot, which can in many ways been seen as a good thing. Art about things can change things. However, the show’s content normalized power imbalances as sexy and male stalking as persistence to be rewarded. Having spent a lot of time with the classic power and control wheel hanging above your desk, you wonder what would happen if the Waitress team were to visit the BxFJC for a few days.

Regardless, you enjoy all three of these shows in various ways. However, it has definitely made you think much harder about the social power of the medium and the narratives that we choose to tell through it. You still have a few shows on your list, and you’ll see how those go as well.

One thought on “On Musicals

  1. Me: How many feminists does it take to screw in a light bulb?
    Friend: I don’t kn–
    Me: [interrupts] That’s not funny.

    Enter humorless feminist.
    (Just kidding, I think that joke is hilarious. But I do have a lot of thoughts on this topic.)

    Savannah, what you talk about is REAL. And, for myself, it has not just been feminist theory or a commitment to a feminist political subjectivity that has altered the way I consume culture, it has also been critical theory and critical race studies in general. It is not as easy to passively consume media anymore without analyzing its impact, but I’m ok with that. It makes me feel strong, to tell you the truth, like I’m entitled to let something irk me and capable of articulating why. It has also made it thrilling to find media that is trying to do better work (which I know you also feel about some of the awesome animated TV and children’s literature you’ve told us about). So, basically, I’m with you.

    I appreciate your critiques of the musicals as much as your struggle with enjoying them nonetheless. For me it is not with musicals so much as music that I find myself struggling with this problem. For example, I wish I hadn’t reconsidered James Brown’s lyrics after hearing his unapologetic response to his domestic abuse case. And my love for the dark no wave music of Swans had been seriously dampened after learning that the front man sexually harassed and raped his female collaborator. The truth is I still enjoy the music of both of these musicians, but it becomes a political consideration for me whether or not to “support” their work. (I’ve stopped wearing my Swans t-shirt for now, but still occasionally listen to their music on “private” on Spotify. And I can’t abandon James Brown, tho man, why’d he have to recontextualize his song like that in the interview?!!)

    So, final thoughts because I’m super inspired by your proposition: What WOULD it look like if the (all female) creative team of Waitress visited the BxFJC for a few days? Or, for example, more creatives and cultural producers interested in making elevated cultural products took workshops on the issues they wish to address? This idea seems to resonate with the work Lauren and NJEP are doing at Legal Momentum, educating judges on the nuances of intimate partner abuse. Can we have higher standards for widely circulated media hailed as feminist? Or should we also support a more broadly acceptable version of feminism that can reach a wider audience? (And also, can I see that “power & control wheel” you mentioned? That sounds awesome.)

    I’m reminded here of a talk I saw at Duke last year by the British feminist theorist Clare Hemmings. She observed the popularity of the “This is what a feminist looks like” t-shirt in England at the same time public services were being massively dismantled by government, which as we know disproportionately affects women and women of color. Also, this. I guess it is for reasons like these that I’m perhaps even more committed to a critique of popular media when it is hailed as feminist, for what I fear it may be covering up in the guise of good social justice work.

    All this to say, super thoughtful and thought provoking post. Thank you for it!

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