Worldwide Women Project: April: Rafiki (2018); dir. Wanuri Kahiu

When I put Rafiki on my list for the Worldwide Women Project, I knew nothing about it other than the fact that it starred two women, was directed by a woman, and came from Kenya, a country that I had not yet put on my list. Therefore, it quickly fit my criteria for the project, and was marked down for April. 

That is why I was so pleasantly surprised coming out of the film to realize that it not only told such a beautiful LGBTQ+ story, but was also a politically and socially conscious film that had an even more politically conscious production history. Rafiki is a story that reminds me, as an American, how far the rest of the world still has to go on certain social issues. 

Rafiki tells the story of two Kenyan girls, Kena, an aspiring doctor, and Ziki, Kena’s free-spirited neighbor, who develop a friendship that quickly evolves into a touching romance. But unfortunately for Kena and Ziki, Kenyan society and the nation’s laws do not approve of their love. Kena and Ziki end up being arrested for their relationship, and split up, before having a hopeful reunion in the film’s final moments. 

I was quite charmed by Rafiki. Having the last film be Portrait of a Lady on Fire, I cannot compare the two love stories, and the latter film is definitely more powerful and better made. However, Rafiki reminds modern audiences that LGBTQ+ couples still face the same challenges that those in the nineteenth century did, as seen in Portrait, which makes it vital film viewing. The two leads, Sheila Munyiva and Samantha Mugatsia, have great chemistry both as people in love but also as great friends, which deepens their emotional connection and makes it easy for the audience to root for them early on. 

Rafiki had a similar trajectory as its protagonists upon the film’s release. To be more specific, the Kenya Film Classification Board released a statement, claiming that the ban is “due to its homosexual theme and clear intent to promote lesbianism in Kenya contrary to the law.” The film was slapped with censors and bans from its home country, a sobering reminder that LGBTQ+ rights have so much farther to go around the world. This beautiful love story could not be seen because instead of a heteronormative couple on display, two women fell in love. 

In retaliation to the restriction, director Wanuri Kahiu sued, and Rafiki was able to be screened in Kenya for a brief seven days, making it eligible for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film (a category now known as Best International Feature Film). Rafiki was ultimately not selected for submission to the Academy by the country of Kenya, but Kahiu’s persistence made sure the film was seen in the U.S. and beyond.

Rafiki is not my favorite film of the ones I have watched thus far, but it may be the most important. I always admire storytellers who fight for their vision and creativity with as much valor and determination as a soldier fighting for freedom. And Wanuri Kahiu is a mighty soldier who made a beautiful love story that should be seen, and I am so glad that I did. 

KFCB’s statement on Rafiki: https://twitter.com/infokfcb/status/989837096251781120?lang=en 

I've Been Saying This!: Art History in Disney Animation

In AP psychology this past year, I learned about “tip-of-the-tongue” phenomenon, which is exactly what the name implies. It is that sensation where you know something, it’s on the tip of the tongue, but you can’t remember the name. And often, the frustration of forgetfulness stings even more when someone else is able to enumerate what you could not in time. Well, today, I had a sort of “tip-of-the-tongue” moment; not in the sense of me forgetting information, but that someone, in this case the Met, was able to say it to a big audience before I could.

Like most young girls, I had a deep obsession with the Disney princess catalogue. And although Disney princesses and their role in the lives of young girls has been challenged in recent years, I cannot pretend that watching the films, collecting the figurines, Barbies, and costumes, and making my mother wait in line for four hours to “meet” the princesses at Disneyland (a story for another time) was not a formative part of my childhood.

My love for Disney princesses has evolved since my tiara-wearing days, and in recent years I have come to recognize new, more sophisticated aspects of the animated worlds these princesses inhabit. More precisely, I have become fascinated with learning about how the animation styles in Disney princess films were influenced by historical art and architecture styles. And, to go back to my original point, it seems as though the Metropolitan Museum of Art also is fascinated by this, explaining my frustrations.

As I was planning for a trip into the city with my mom, I was searching the websites of various museums and art galleries to see which exhibits were worth visiting. And what do I find on the Met’s website? A page detailing their upcoming exhibit, “Inspiring Walt Disney: The Animation of French Decorative Arts.” The exhibit, which will be on display at the Met from December 2021 to March 2022, traces the animation of Disney classics such as Cinderella (1950) and Sleeping Beauty (1959) back to Rococo designs and Medieval architecture.

My jealousy towards the Met for not being able to curate this incredible exhibit myself aside, I am beyond excited to go see in person what they put together. As a kid, I was paying attention to the princess, the prince, the cute animals, and the wicked stepmothers. But now when I watch, it is amazing to see the structuring of the palaces, stitchings on the gowns, and patterns on the furniture and wallpaper. This animated production design is still breathtaking, and the attention to historical detail in the art is something I will never get enough of.

So if anyone reading this also happens to check out the exhibit, enjoy! But just remember, if you hear anyone talking about Rococo or Art Deco as it pertains to Disney, just know: I’ve been saying this

March: Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019), dir. Céline Sciamma, France

As a person who loves films more than almost anything else in the world, I consume them constantly. And while I love to do so, it can sometimes get repetitive or draining, and films merge into each other in my mind. Only on the rare occasion do I have the kind of film viewing experience that only comes so often: it hits like a thunderbolt, and is so striking and impactful, that in your mind it becomes “before I saw it” and “after.” This is the experience I had this month when I watched Céline Sciamma’s masterpiece, Portrait of a Lady on Fire. I had been hearing about this film for over a year now, but with the list of “must-see movies” growing everyday, I had yet to get to it. I thought this project was the perfect opportunity to finally watch. 

Last month when discussing La Ciénaga I mentioned that when I first began viewing foreign films I was not initially “hooked.” Well, French cinema was the first to hook me, and the foreign market I continue to love the most. The French New Wave of the 50s and 60s is indisputably responsible for the most creative and influential period in American cinema, the “New Hollywood.” Starting in the late 60s with films such as Bonnie and Clyde (1967) and The Graduate (1967) and into the 70s with directors like Martin Scorsese, Brian De Palma, and Francis Ford Coppola, this period of filmmaking in the U.S. is remembered as the nation’s most artistic, and that is in large part due to the French films these filmmakers viewed on their way up.

The first foreign film that hooked me was Breathless (1960), dir. Jean-Luc Godard, which is not one of the best French films ever but one of the best films ever, period, and probably in the top five in terms of international influence. And the first foreign film that I loved (and is still my favorite) is Belle de Jour (1967), dir. Luis Buñuel, which stars one of the silver screen’s “great faces,” Catherine Deneuve. French cinema is bold, brave, and breathtakingly beautiful, so it is not a major surprise that all those elements are included in and elevated by Portrait of a Lady on Fire.

The film focuses on a painter, Marianne (played by the magnificent Noémie Merlant) who is commissioned to paint a portrait of a convent girl (played by the magnetic Adèle Haenel, who I selfishly want to see in an American film) to give to her potential husband. Over the course of the film, the two begin a secret and intense love affair. 

The 2010s were a decade with the most LGBTQ+ representation the silver screen had ever seen. Blue is the Warmest Colour (2013), dir. Abdellatif Kechiche, also a French film, was a boundary pushing film for LGBTQ+ on-screen romances, and Carol (2015), dir. Todd Haynes brought a lesbian relationship into a mainstream American studio and generated serious “awards buzz.” And while Portrait of a Lady on Fire may have those to thank for being able to be screen at the prestigious Cannes Film Festival or not being “controversial,” it certainly stands on its own, and in my opinion, above the rest. 

There is something so beautiful, even ethereal of seeing a woman capture the beauty of another woman. And in Portrait this is a two-fold: in the diegesis of the film’s narrative, Marianne is capturing the striking beauty of Eloise in her painting and in their personal relationship, while in the making of the film the director, Celinne Sciamma, not only a woman but also a member of the LGBTQ+ community, captures the beauty and uncompromising femininity of her two leading women. 

In Marianne and Eloise’s relationship, nobody “wears the pants” or is “the man.” In fact, no piece of dialogue in this film is ever spoken by a man. Because these two women do not want to be with men nor do they want to emulate them. This is not a “feminist” film more than it is a “feminine” one, allowing for detailed gowns and beachfront settings and gorgeous hair to not diminish a film or make it less “important” but to heighten it and sharpen it and immerse the audience in a woman’s vision. 

Céline Sciamma along with Adele Haenel (the two were formerly in a relationship and remain professional collaborators) have been, for over a decade, two of the biggest and loudest voices in French cinema. The two have been wildly successful on camera, not only in representing LGBTQ+ relationships and complex female characters, but also the accolades they have garnered. Sciamma won a Cesar Award (the French equivalent of an Oscar) for co-writing the film, My Life as a Courgette (2016), dir. Claude Barras, but has also been nominated many times, including for writing and directing Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Haenel has had a star making decade in French not comparable to anyone in America (although for comparison’s sake, probably along the lines of Jennifer Lawrence, Saoirse Ronan, or Kate Winslet in the late 90s and early 2000s). Haenel, at age 32, has received seven César nominations, winning two. She along with co-star Noémie Merlant were both nominated for Best Actress for their work in Portrait. 

Off-screen, Sciamma and Haenel have been advocates for LGBTQ+ rights and representation and staunch supporters of the #MeToo movement, which Haenel said France “missed the boat” on. At the 2020 Cesar Awards, when controversial director Roman Polanski, who infamously fled the U.S. after being accused of having sex with a thirteen-year-old girl, won Best Director over Sciamma, Haenel and Sciamma walked out of the awards in protest. 

Portrait of a Lady on Fire is one of the best films I have seen in a long time and one I recommend to everyone. It is a true romance with sophisticated characterization, mesmerizing cinematography, and a female director who knows how to capture women in ways men have not done. The talent in front of and behind the camera are names everyone in the world should know and should pay attention to, and this is the perfect film to hear their voices.

Worldwide Women Project: February: Lucrecia Martel and La Ciénaga

February: La Ciénaga (2001), dir. Lucrecia Martel, Argentina

As it always does, the 28-day February came and went in a flash. And because of that, my schedule got condensed and more crowded, and so I was unable to watch La Ciénaga until the last week of the month. I’ve taken the extra week to write my essay on it because I wanted to make sure I did a good job researching and understanding the film and its context. 

My relationship with foreign film began less than a year ago, in July 2020. I was taking a film class through UPenn’s summer program, “World Cinema: 1945-Present.” The first film we were assigned to watch was the Italian neorealism classic Bicycle Thieves (1948), dir. Vittorio De Sica. I had never seen it, much less heard of it, or Vittorio De Sica, or Italian neorealism. So, as an American teenager who had up until that point had only seen American films, I was underwhelmed and confused by Bicycle Thieves. “Nothing happened.” “What was the point of that?” were the questions that kept swirling in my mind. And then my class discussed it, analyzing scenes and talking about what neorealism was and why the movement is so significant in the history of cinema. Bicycle Thieves is not my favorite movie, and I have not watched it in full since, but after looking at it as a historical document, both in its importance as a political and artistic expression, I have tremendous reverence for it.

I felt a similar way after diving into Argentinian director Lucrecia Martel’s 2001 debut, La Ciénaga. Although only a 101 minute film, Martel does not rush even for a moment. Everything is at the pace of a slow summer day, when the sun glares in your eyes and the cool of the wind breezes over. La Ciénaga is more of an atmospheric film than a story; it is a film more concerned with how people react, interact, and confront their innermost desires and fears as opposed to where they came from and where they are going. 

To try to describe the plot of La Ciénaga would be a disservice to the film; there is no way to satisfyingly sum up the events that transpire or the moments in between the events in one sentence. I think the Criterion Collection’s words on the film are the best at capturing why I felt it was an important film to include in this project: “Martel turns her tale of a dissolute bourgeois extended family, whiling away the hours of one sweaty, sticky summer, into a cinematic marvel. This visceral take on class, nature, sexuality, and the ways that political turmoil and social stagnation can manifest in human relationships is a drama of extraordinary tactility, and one of the great contemporary film debuts.” And that is essentially what the film tackles; it “stars” actresses Graciela Borges and Mercedes Morán, but it is truly an ensemble with no performances that overpower the others. 

Similar to how I felt after viewing American filmmaker Sofia Coppola’s directorial debut, The Virgin Suicides (1999), one thing was clear to me: Lucrecia Martel had a clear voice and vision, and had portrayed women on screen in a way I had never seen before. And while I knew a lot about Sofia Coppola before seeing The Virgin Suicides, I knew virtually nothing about Lucrecia Martel, and so I set out to change that. 

I watched a fifty minute interview that Martel gave to Film at Lincoln Center in 2018 about La Ciénaga as well as reading some profiles on her. In Film at Lincoln Center’s guest profile of Martel, they wrote: Martel studied film in Buenos Aires during one of the country’s worst economic crises, and eventually lent her worldview and sense of place to intimate, elliptical dramas that broke from the aesthetic and ideological tendencies of the prevailing national film scene.” Viewing La Ciénaga through the lens of a woman who lived in a broken economy and had a disillusioned view of the bourgeoisie makes the cynical nature of the film less “empty” as one may feel viewing it and more profound and knowing. 

Then I read more about why she made La Ciénaga as her debut and the impact it had. Not only is the film a staple of the New Argentine Cinema (which the Criterion Collection described as “escaping the theatrical aura of previous cinema”), but it is also shown in many film classes and is adored by film academics. Film critic and journalist Kleber Mendonça Filho described his adoration for the film by saying “I remember the impact Lucrecia Martel’s debut feature had on film students, critics, and fellow filmmaker...I love everything about this film: the obliqueness of it, the fresh and bold take on sexuality, the use of sound, the faces and bodies.” There are countless anecdotes about people’s experiences with the film similar to Filho’s, and they all strike upon the same themes of the film’s subversion of narrative and audience expectations of what a film can be, which is quite powerful. 

What struck me during my research Martel’s revelation to an interviewer that La Ciénaga was intended to subvert film conventions and make audiences experience something new and partly distressing. In an interview with The Telegraph around the release of the film, Martel stated that to her, La Ciénaga is “not a realistic film. It's something strange, a little weird. It's the kind of film where you can't tell what's going to happen, and I wanted the audience to be very uncomfortable from the beginning." It is not revolutionary for a filmmaker to want to bring out feelings of discomfort and tension in their audiences; however, to do so with such a sparse film is what makes the film stand out. In American film, Alfred Hitchcock makes his audiences uncomfortable with relentless suspense, and David Fincher does so with his cool-toned frames and unpredictable characters like Amy Dunne in Gone Girl or Tyler Durden in Fight Club; Martel does not have a “gimmick” or a “thing” that she uses. Instead, the through line of the film is discomfort and dissatisfaction; scenes are often cut short, storylines are unresolved, characters appear in their grossest, most unkempt forms, and exterior sounds are what control the movie, not a thundering score or a carefully curated soundtrack. 

I do not know if I will ever revisit La Ciénaga, or at least visit it anytime soon. And yet, I recommend that everyone watch it at least once. I cannot say it was a life changing viewing experience, nor did it move me in any profound way. But it was something I had never seen before, made by a woman who, on her first film, knew how she saw the world, and was not afraid to show that to the world. It is a movie that easily could have been dismissed or forgotten, but it is Martel’s dedication to her vision and disregard for making the film easy or pleasant for her audience that I feel has made the film remain relevant in its now 20-year life.

La Ciénaga is available for streaming on HBO Max and is also a part of the Criterion Collection.

Sources:

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/?xml=/arts/2001/10/04/bfsf4.xml 

https://www.criterion.com/current/posts/3449-lucrecia-martel-and-the-new-argentine-cinema 

https://www.criterion.com/films/28113-la-ci-naga

https://www.criterion.com/current/top-10-lists/372-kleber-mendon-a-filho-s-top-10 

Worldwide Women Project: January: Ida Lupino and The Bigamist

For the first time in my memory, January has flown by. So as the first month of 2021 quickly comes to a close, I will be sharing my thoughts on the first film of my Worldwide Women Project: The Bigamist (1953), dir. Ida Lupino. 

It is sad that women in the U.S. continue to have to work through so many obstacles in order to become directors; perhaps it is even more upsetting that in spite of this, the U.S. has fairly indisputably produced the most acclaimed or “well-known” female directors. However, I did not choose America as the first country to highlight just because it is my homeland but more so because of the history of female directors in this country. Before Greta Gerwig, Sofia Coppola, and Kathryn Bigelow were critically acclaimed and groundbreaking female filmmakers, there was Ida Lupino, a woman who made her own films in a time when that seemed impossible. Lupino is a name that is too often left out of the female director conversation, and I am regretful to admit that I was unaware of her until a few months ago. I was incredibly excited to view her film The Bigamist and share my thoughts about it and about Lupino, as it is the first American feature that is directed by a woman who also stars in the film, something actors have done with great success (Robert Redford, Warren Beatty, Ben Affleck, etc.) 

The Bigamist, a 1953 drama/noir starring Edmond O’Brien (The Barefoot Contessa, White Heat), Joan Fontaine (Rebecca, Suspicion), Edmund Gwenn (Miracle on 34th Street), and Lupino herself, centers around a man (O’Brien) who while in the process of adopting a baby with his wife (Fontaine) is discovered by the adoption agent (Gwenn) to have another secret wife (Lupino). Shot in black-and-white and told mostly in a flashback with narration, The Bigamist was a classic 50s noir-ish delight. At 120 minutes, it moved quickly and was chalk full of dramatic twists. In the genre of noir, it is definitely not the top of its class, but I had a great time watching it. 

One thing that is certain about The Bigamist, an independent film made on a tiny budget, is Lupino’s talent as a filmmaker. The film, while centering on a man and not as distinctly “female” as say one of Sofia Coppola’s pastel paradises, clearly has the eye and compassion of a woman, that helps make the film interesting and slightly less generic than other noirs of this era. I think that master filmmaker Martin Scorsese summed up Lupino’s directorial gifts in a 1995 New York Times piece: “[w]hat is at stake in Lupino's films is the psyche of the victim. They addressed the wounded soul and traced the slow, painful process of women trying to wrestle with despair and reclaim their lives. Her work is resilient, with a remarkable empathy for the fragile and the heart-broken. It is essential.” 

Lupino did not reinvent the wheel with her films; as literally the only working female director in 1950s Hollywood, she played by the rules. It was most certainly a man’s industry, and Lupino knew that, accepted that, and worked around it to make her own films. Most of them starred men at the center, including The Bigamist and perhaps her most notable directorial effort, The Hitchhiker (also from 1953); however, unlike many directors, Lupino has a sense of empathy for all of her characters, man or woman, that most other directors of her time severely lacked. Her films are not “man versus woman” or “woman versus woman,” nor do they side with one gender; every character, no matter their sex, is treated fairly and portrayed as a whole person. 

The main character, Harry (O’Brien), is a man who cheats on his wife (Fontaine) after he learns she is incapable of having a baby, and then impregnates his mistress (Lupino). In most scenarios, it would be easy to either portray Harry as a villain, or choose one of the women to be his “true love” and the other woman a thorn in his side. Lupino takes neither of these routes and instead elevates what could be a very cookie-cutter concept into a highly intriguing and sophisticated story. 

That sophistication is all in Lupino’s direction; the sympathy she gives to all three main characters makes not only the characterization stronger but the plot, as the complexity of all the relationships only adds to the suspense of the drama. Harry is a man who knows he is making mistakes by being unfaithful; he is not an abusive husband nor a neglectful one, and when he learns Lupino is pregnant with his child, he vows to not only support her but also ensure that his wife gets the baby she has longed for. 

Aside from Harry, both of his leading ladies are also much more complicated and well-rounded than the typical love interest of a Hollywood noir, and that is fully attributable to Lupino’s female perspective and sensibility. Fontaine is not a wife who endlessly dotes on her husband; she loves him and respects him, but their marriage is not all-consuming for her. She has her own complex struggles, not only with infertility but also balancing her relationship with Harry and being devoted to business. The two are constantly at odds not only because of the time work takes up but also because of the fact that Fontaine’s character, Eve, is much better at business than Harry, which is not only recognized by Eve herself but also their colleagues. And Lupino’s character, Phyllis, is far from a conniving temptress. She stumbles into a relationship with Harry without knowing he is married but also in a very natural and human way. Despite the audience sympathizing with Eve, Phyllis is not a villain. There is no villain in The Bigamist, which may be its greatest achievement as all the elements of the story would lead to audiences thinking otherwise. 

The Bigamist is not “capital G” great in the way noirs like The Maltese Falcon or The Lady from Shanghai are, but it is has well developed characters, an interesting plot line (that I personally think is largely held back by censorship of the 50s), and of course impressive directing by the unique storytelling voice of her generation, a trailblazing filmmaker and also highly talented actress, Ida Lupino. Her name should be said louder and more often in the industry, and many women in American cinema have been beneficiaries of her barrelling down doors to get her stories told for microscopic budgets. Hollywood should be immensely proud to call Ida Lupino one of their own, and probably wish they had given her more to do when they had the chance. 

To see more insight into Ida Lupino, I highly recommend the YouTube video linked by the incomparable film analysis channel Be Kind Rewind. The video looks into Lupino’s career as well as the directorial efforts of one of American entertainment’s great talents, Barbra Streisand.

Video: Actresses Who Direct: Barbra Streisand and Ida Lupino

Entering 2021 & Introducing my Worldwide Women Project

Hello! 2020 is finally over, and while switching the calendar does not cast a magical spell that remedies all of the troubles 2020 brought, every new year brings an opportunity for reflection and forward-looking. I think I have done a lot of introspection about the year already, so I do not feel the need to recap my thoughts on 2020; I think my feelings about the big issues of the year (COVID, BLM, etc.) have been well documented.

Instead, I want to focus on the year ahead. I am not a big believer in New Year’s Resolutions, but I did have one big goal for 2021, and that is to be more productive. I have a lot on my plate, but 2020 showed me that a lot of what I was doing was not bringing me the joy or satisfaction it maybe once had. So in 2021, I want to strive to combine my interests and passions with productive actions that are not only fun but would better me as an individual.

Two of my biggest interests are cinema and world cultures, so in 2021, I wanted to not only combine these but also turn them into an educational and informative action plan. Then, while browsing the website of Turner Classic Movies, I came across their new initiative: Women Make Film. Not only did TCM produce a feature-length documentary on female filmmaking, but they also spotlighted 100 international female directors and their films. Inspired by this, I have decided to devote 2021 to what I am calling my “Worldwide Women Project.”

Once a month, I will watch a film from a country that not only stars a woman but is also directed by one. I will give my personal thoughts on the film, but also have a more academic and analytical discussion about the impact of having a woman in-front of and behind of the camera on that specific story, as well as the cultural distinctions that are present between the different nations. I tried my best to highlight films from lesser known filmmakers or at least women whose films I had never seen (so I did not include films by very famous directors such as Greta Gerwig, Ava DuVernay, Barbra Streisand, Sofia Coppola, Jane Campion, or Kathryn Bigelow).

Here is the tentative schedule for the films I will be viewing for the project. Titles are subject to change based on regional availability (some films are harder to find than others).

January: The Bigamist (1953) directed by Ida Lupino from the USA; starring Ida Lupino and Joan Fontaine

February: La Ciênaga (2001) directed by Lucrecia Martel from Argentina; starring Mercedes Morán and Graciela Borges

March: Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019) directed by Céline Sciamma from France; starring Adèle Haenel and Noémie Merlant

April: Rafiki (2019) directed by Wanuri Kahiu from Kenya; starring Samantha Mugatsia and Sheila Munyiva

May: Zero Motivation (2014) by Talya Lavie from Israel; starring Nelly Tagar and Dana Ivgy

June: My 20th Century (1990) by Ildikó Enyedi from Hungary; starring Dorota Segda

July: Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1974) directed by Chantal Akerman from Belgium; starring Delphine Seyrig

August: Antonia’s Line (1995) directed by Marleen Gorris from the Netherlands; starring Willeke van Ammelrooy and Els Dottermans

September: Nowhere in Africa (2001) directed by Caroline Link from Germany; starring Juliane Köhler

October: Rachida (2002) directed by Yamina Bachir from Algeria; starring Ibtissem Djouadi

November: The Night Porter (1974) directed by Liliana Cavani from Italy; starring Charlotte Rampling

December: Wings (1966) directed by Larisa Shepitko from the Soviet Union; starring Maya Bulgakova

I am incredibly excited to begin this journey around the globe and interact with these filmmakers’ work. I truly believe in the power of cinema, specifically its global reach and impact, and I hope that this project can contribute in some way to that beautiful power.

A COVID Thanksgiving: November Reflection

Perhaps the only comforting normalcy of 2020 is the passage of time, as like most years, March, April, and May were a slow slog, and now the final three months of the year are flashing before our eyes. October came and went and November has seen to go even faster, perhaps because of how “action packed” of a month it truly was.

For instance, it is nearly impossible to comprehend that the presidential election was this month, or that it was announced that Tom Cruise is filming a movie in space, or that Thanksgiving blinked past, and for many was the quietest holiday ever.

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays, like many Americans. And while I recognize the holiday’s complicated history, I mainly cherish it, selfishly, for my mom’s delicious cooking. But more importantly I love Thanksgiving because it is one of the only times of the year when I get to see my family who live miles away, and unfortunately this year that was not the case.

In accordance with COVID-19 regulations, a normal family Thanksgiving was yet another victim of this persistent pandemic. Thanksgiving was not the same. It felt smaller, less significant, and lacked the festive spirit that I love about it. I fear that the Christmas and Hanukkah season will have a similar dull feeling.

But to stop myself from being entirely pessimistic, November did also bring a major breakthrough in the search for a COVID vaccine, which seems more and more promising each day. I am cautiously optimistic that 2021 will bring better days, and that 2020 will be a milestone year, bringing about major institutional changes in government, business, education, and elsewhere.

Change and innovation do not come lightly, and I think at the end of this horrible pandemic’s tunnel may be a light of new opportunities. We shall have to wait and see.

Reflecting on "Immigrant Sensibilities in Tech Worlds: Sensing Hate, Capturing Dissensus"

There are a lot of things that I think about in the course of my day. What I’ll have for dinner. What homework I have to do later that night. How many episodes of The Crown is too much for one day. But I am embarrassed to admit that never once have I thought about immigrants working in the Seattle tech world. However, after reading the article “Immigrant Sensibilities in Tech Worlds: Sensing Hate, Capturing Dissensus” by Sareeta Amrute in the peer-reviewed Cultural Anthropology journal, I now will be thinking about them often.

The essay details harassment reports made by Chinese and Indian who work in software-related businesses in the Seattle area to the Washington state government. The essay early on indicates that these incidents of harassment increased after Donald Trump was elected President of the United States in 2016.

It was terrifying to read through the experiences of these workers, and even more terrifying to read how Washington State responded, or in most cases how they failed to respond, even with hate incidents and hate crimes on the rise. The essay also includes the fascinating fact of “sensing hate;” in short, these workers have become so accustomed to hate that they sense hateful language and slurs as racially motivated or biased, demonstrating how this hateful language has become meshed into the fabric of these Seattle-extended areas. But the most upsetting part of all of it is how little surprised I was at the lack of governmental action to protect these people who are the backbone of one of America’s most profitable and crucial industries. These immigrants who came to America like so many others to create a better life and brought useful skills that are boosting the nation’s economy should be protected and trusted instead of neglected and attacked.

The essay also makes the point of how politics have infiltrated the tech world in Seattle and is contributing to these racist and hateful incidents against immigrants workers. So in this regard they are not only being failed by the Washington State justice system but also the big-time tech companies they work for. While they are just trying to do their jobs, they have to endure attacks from intolerant coworkers who cannot separate politics from the workplace to accomplish common company goals.

Amrute’s research and restraint in her writing makes the essay informative and insightful without imposing opinions on the reader. I highly recommend reading her essay to become more knowledgeable on an issue that sadly does not seem that foreign to the rest of the country, but is still as infuriating as in any other industry or part of the world. It is an important reminder that racism and hate is still rampant and that it must be destroyed not just in theory but systemically.

Read the essay here: https://journal.culanth.org/plugins/generic/pdfJsViewer/pdf.js/web/viewer.html?file=https%3A%2F%2Fjournal.culanth.org%2Findex.php%2Fca%2Farticle%2Fdownload%2F4175%2F562%2F

The Ancient Modern-Day Woman: What Cleopatra's Legacy Means to Me

Recently in school I had to answer the following question: who is your historical figure, and why?

The question is not complex or demanding, and instantly I knew my answer. It is the same answer I use anytime I am asked this question. Cleopatra. To many, that may be a beaten to the ground, eye-roll inducing, cliché answer. I would agree with those people! I am not normally one to agree with the popular consensus, and yet, Cleopatra will always be my pick.

I think to some extent any high school girl has admiration for Cleopatra. When we learn the big names of ancient history, there’s Alexander the Great, Hammurabi, Xerxes, Mark Antony, Julius Caesar…and Cleopatra. Her name invokes a breath of fresh air, and her image in itself is empowering. She is the one female leader of that time period that the history books could not ignore.

Cleopatra doesn’t just receive recognition for being a woman; her accomplishments as a leader exceed the judgement of gender. Her savvy politics helped her ascend the throne and remain there for two decades until her untimely death. And although modern literature and film enjoy to dramatize her relationships with Mark Antony and Julius Caesar (which were also incredibly impressive feats of leadership and command), Cleopatra stands on her own as a historical figure. In fact, she is definitely more well-known than her two Roman companions.

The fact that she is so prominent in history has always made me gravitate towards her. But what makes Cleopatra’s legacy fascinating to me is beyond her title and her long reign; it is the fact that Cleopatra was a leader who embraced he femininity and led as a woman, and did so unapologetically in a time when that was unthinkable. In these times, I think we could use another Cleopatra, and it is sad that I think the world would have a more adverse reaction to a leader of her nature than they did in ancient times. Cleopatra was the embodiment of an ancient modern-day woman, and I am forever grateful for her rich legacy.

The COVID Diaries: Summer of Uncertainty

There’s so much to say about what the past three months of summer have looked like, and yet I feel no proper combination of words or phrases will appropriately express my feelings. I think about the defining moments of older generations: World War II, Vietnam, the Internet, 9/11, etc. Some of those events have been romanticized (the amount of WWII love stories released each year through novels and movies), while others like 9/11 and Vietnam only develop more painful legacies as time passes.

It’s an incredibly strange feeling to be living through something that you know will be one of the most pivotal moments of your life, and yet, not being able to do anything. I don’t feel a changed person. Maybe I won’t realize the effects of COVID-19 until I’m on the other side of it, or maybe that’s not what a “defining” event of one’s life really means. COVID-19 isn’t an epic, sweeping war or a groundbreaking technological revolution. It’s a depressing, confusing, and stagnant period in my life. And in all truthfulness, if life ever returns to what I once knew it to be, I don’t think I ever want to reflect on this period again.

I hope that there aren’t Coronavirus movies (I know there will be, but I don’t want that). Did people feel the same way about World War II? When they watched “It’s a Wonderful Life,” did they think “Ugh, can we not think about the war right now?” Why does this feel different to me? Is it because it’s still happening? Is it because I’m in the thick of it?

I think a large explanation for this unsettling feeling I have about the legacy of COVID is that unlike WWII or 9/11, this is not a unifying time for the world by any means. Coronavirus, at least in America, has created more divisions. We’re not all in this together. And I’m not trying to get political when I say that, it’s merely a fact. When people from my generation tell their children and grandchildren about COVID, there will be accounts of the pandemic that wildly contradict each other. That doesn’t make me feel great.

As summer comes to a close and the school year begins again, I feel just as unsure about where we are headed as I did when school ended in June. I don’t know when I will get to go to school without wearing a mask. Or when I will be able to hug my friend without being concerned that I could be spreading a deadly virus to their entire family.

But for now, all we have are questions, frustrations, and no answers. And although it is hard to stay positive, I am trying to look forward to the other side of COVID, and am hoping that the other side is coming soon and safely.

The Quarantine Diaries: BLACK LIVES MATTER.

I was in the middle of writing a post about my experience with virtual learning for the past three months, but now, with the much more urgent and important work being done in our country, writing about the annoyances of online meetings seems completely trivial. I want to start this piece with three simple words: BLACK LIVES MATTER. The fact that these are the most controversial words in our country right now is devastating and incomprehensible. Ending systemic racism should not ever be a politicized issue, but alas, it has become the political issue. But, why? Why is it so controversial to acknowledge the racism in this nation?

The easy answer to this question is that there are racist, ignorant, and uneducated people in America who have no interest in acknowledging their privilege. But the answer is not that simple, because it is not just the loud cries of “ALL LIVES MATTER” and “BLUE LIVES MATTER” that are contributing to the issue. There is a much deeper problem with white people being uncomfortable with their privilege and having conversations about race.

Being white myself, I have also been guilty of being oblivious of how wide the racial gap is in our country. Racial inequality exists in every sector of our society, and that is something I believe a lot of white people, myself included, have ignored, even if they did not mean to. However, I think what this moment in time is showing is a new divide among white people: those who want to educate themselves and become active allies for the black community, and those who continue to not want to address their privilege.

Conversations about race are uncomfortable, and for some people, too much to bear. However, these conversations are long overdue and necessary for our society to progress. It is up to individuals to educate themselves, by reading books such as Witnessing Whiteness: The Need to Talk about Race and How to Do It by Shelly Tochluk, or watching movies like Ava DuVernay’s Netflix documentary 13th.

But it is also the responsibility of schools to better educate students. There is not enough taught about race relations in our schools, and that must change; in order to improve our world, we need to be reminded of our history and our present. In English class, the conversations when reading Huckleberry Finn need to be more about the racial undertones and why this novel was so acclaimed at its time. In history, large periods of black history are glossed over in favor of championing the incredible feats of white men throughout history; black history is largely diminished to slavery and the civil right movement. More black stories need to be told.

This is a period of growth and realization for myself and many others. Right now, the most important thing to do is ensure that BLM is not a “trend” but a long lasting movement that enacts societal change and overdue justice for the black community.

The Quarantine Diaries: How Netflix’s “Hollywood” Rewrites History…and Not in a Good Way

We are now two months into quarantine, and the future is still as uncertain as it was in March. And although it is frustrating and scary in these times of isolation, I have been trying to find as many silver linings as possible, many of which are stemming from all of the content that I have been able to watch (and have discussed in my last post). However, my latest binging experience, the Ryan Murphy produced Netflix series Hollywood was not exactly my cup of tea. I feel it is important to reflect on why this revisionist history does not work, and how the creative liberties taken are irresponsible and detrimental to the mainstream perception of classic Hollywood, both in its highs and its disturbing lows.

Spoilers for Hollywood below.

Hollywood is set in the late 1940s, in a post-WWII, pre-Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named Desire age for Hollywood. The greatest and most detrimental misstep the show takes is having real life Hollywood figures in the same story as a world of completely fictional characters. While this mode of storytelling has worked in other films, most recently in Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time…In Hollywood which featured fictional characters living in the same story as Sharon Tate, Roman Polanski, and Charles Manson, in Hollywood, there is not enough separation between fact and fiction, and no clarification as to where the line of history is drawn.

The story main’s protagonist is a fictional character, Jack Costello (David Corenswet), a struggling actor waiting to get his big break, while also trying to financially support his pregnant wife (Maude Apatow). Aside from Jack and fellow fictional characters Claire Wood (Samara Weaving) and Raymond Ainsley (Darren Criss), almost all of the storylines are straight out of a fairytale.

There is aspiring screenwriter Archie Coleman (Jeremy Pope), who has been sidelined by the industry because he is black and gay, two minority groups who had no place in 1940s Hollywood; however, in Hollywood, studio executives (Joe Martello, Holland Taylor, and Patti LuPone) fight for him and his script, Peg. Except Peg is only the working title, as it is changed to Meg when the studio decides to cast a black actress, Camille Washington (Laura Herrier) in the titular role. The stories of Archie and Camille are heartwarming, but are completely unrealistic for the time, and even more damaging, underscore the struggles that actors and filmmakers of color experienced during that time.

A version of Hollywood with these fictional characters in a utopian Hollywood might have been a better project, but alas, Ryan Murphy decided to set these characters in the real world of 1948 Hollywood, and that is where the show falls of the rails.

Some of Hollywood’s biggest icons make small cameo appearances, such as Hattie McDaniel (Queen Latfiah), George Cukor (Daniel London), Tallulah Bankhead (Paget Brewster), and Vivien Leigh (Katie McGuinnesss), the latter two being portrayed as drunken and hysterical caricatures of the real actresses. Their appearances are brief and more forgiveable, but portray all of these legends as difficult, or neurotic, without telling even an abridged version of the struggles they faced in the industry, because in Hollywood, everyone gets a happy ending!

But there are three unforgivable offenses that Hollywood portrays. Number one, is the treatment of Anna May Wong (Michelle Krusiec). Anna May Wong was the first Chinese-American movie star, who was never even given a fair shot in the industry. Perhaps one of the most talented actresses of her time, Wong, like all other Asian actresses, was subjected to playing “exotic” and “oriental” temptresses, never receiving proper recognition. The most infamous moment of her career was when she was denied the leading role in the movie The Good Earth, which instead went to Luise Rainer, a white actress, who went on to win Best Actress for her portrayal as an Asian woman. However, in Hollywood, Wong is given respect, is fought for, and ends up winning Best Supporting Actress in the season finale. A touching story, but not one that addresses what actually happened to Anna May Wong.

The second unforgivable offense is the portrayal of Rock Hudson (Jake Picking). Hudson, one of the most famous actors of his time, struggled with his sexuality his entire life, remaining in the closet to maintain his career, and later dying of AIDS-related complications. Hudson’s real story is one of tragedy and ignorance, as he never could live his life freely and the way he wanted to in order to still be a movie star. Hollywood ignores Hudson’s hardships, making him Archie Coleman’s proud boyfriend, and letting him have a successsful career while not being shamed for being gay.

And finally, the third unforgivable offense is the fact that Camille Washington wins Best Actress for Meg. The black community has had to fight for roles, representation, and recognition in the industry for decades (and still continue to do so). The show briefly addresses backlash to casting a black actress in the lead role of a major studio production, with someone throwing racial slurs at Camille, while studio lawyers trying to burn the footage of the movie to eradicate it completely. But all of that is overridden in the finale, when the movie breaks box office records, and wins Best Supporting Actress, Best Screenplay, Best Director, Best Picture, and Best Actress at the Academy Awards. Camille’s win completely underscores the struggles that actresses such as Dorothy Dandridge, Diahann Carroll, Lena Horne, and countless others endured during their careers, as well as Halle Berry’s actual historical win in 2002, still remaining the only black woman to win the Best Actress Oscar.

What makes these portrayals so offensive is that, unlike the Manson murders of Sharon Tate, or the events of World War II that are revised in Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds, the stories of Rock Hudson and Anna May Wong are not widely discussed; they are Hollywood’s dirty secrets that they sweep under the rug. Hollywood had the opportunity to portray what 1948 Hollywood really looked like: a period in which minorities were not respected, where actresses like Vivien Leigh and Talllulah Bankhead were drugged and poisoned by the demands of fame, and where audiences were not ready for a black woman to lead a major motion picture. But that is not what this show does, and it changes stories that are too vulnerable to be changed in mainstream media; most people who watch Hollywood are not familiar with the real life history, and the show makes little effort to fill in the blanks.

I think that Hollywood has good intentions, as at the end of the day all it wants to do is give happy endings to people who didn’t get them in their time. But the harsh reality is is that they did not get those happy endings, and making a show where not only do they get them, but get them so easily, is lazy and irresponsible storytelling. The show’s creative license is taken too far, and therefore creates a frustrating viewing experience that does not even have robust enough plot lines or, quite honestly, performances to outweigh the historical negatives.

Hollywood is available for streaming on Netflix…and Anna May Wong’s movies The Thief of Bagdad and Bombs Over Burma are on Amazon Prime Video!!

The Quarantine Diaries: Content, Content, Content!

In these crazy times, I thought it would be good to reflect upon things I have learned during the quarantine rather than dwell on the dangers. For today’s segment, I will be breaking down all of the movies and TV shows I have watched thus far.

Quarantine has opened up a lot of time, which although sometimes can drag, is easy to fill up with all of the available content on streaming services that I otherwise struggle to find time for. It has been a refreshing and valuable change of pace, and the content has kept me busy and entertained in these otherwise dreary times. Below I discuss some of my favorites.

Some Other Great Content I’ve Watched: Match Point, Knives Out, Uncut Gems, Frances Ha, Marriage Story, Room, Miss Americana, an extensive rewatch of the Disney Princess catalog, and lots more.

M O V I E S:

• I, Tonya: I never got around to seeing Margot Robbie’s powerhouse sports drama when it was originally released in 2017, but three years later, I am so glad I did. Besides giving new context to one of American sports’ biggest villains, I, Tonya is a movie that is an acting showcase for women, both Robbie and Allison Janney, who ended up winning the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress as Tonya Harding’s mother. It’s a fun and high-energy movie, and gives A League of Their Own a run for its money as the best female-centric sports movie.

• Lady Bird: I ADORED Greta Gerwig’s 2019 adaptation of Little Women, so much so that I rushed to see her 2017 debut, Lady Bird. Starring the incomparable Saoirse Ronan, the film is a smart, heartwarming, and refreshing coming-of-age tale that features a protagonist who in confident in herself and her choices, even if she doesn't always make the best ones. Lady Bird joins the ranks of films like Clueless, Mean Girls, Easy A, and the 2019 film Booksmart as “teenage” movies that surpass the tropes and formulas of the high school genre.

• Bridget Jones’s Diary: Renée Zellweger had a terrific comeback to Hollywood with her Oscar win for portraying Judy Garland, but before that, Zellweger was one of the late 90s-early 2000s most sought after leading ladies, and Bridget Jones’s Diary may be the perfect display of why that is so. Fun. witty, and very British, the film, lead by Zellweger as the perfectly imperfect Bridget Jones, is a delightful time that I am so glad I finally got around to watching, and plan to add to my list of “go-to” movies to watch again and again.

• Jerry Maguire: Speaking of Renée Zellweger, I also watched her breakout role of Dorothy Boyd in the sports flick Jerry Maguire. From Cuba Gooding Jr.’s eccentric and self-absorbed Rod Tidwell, to Zellweger’s adorable son, to the titular character, played by Tom Cruise, Jerry Maguire perfectly hits all the feel-good beats of a sports movie and a romance, and mixes them into one amazing (and highly quotable) viewing experience.

T V:

• Dirty John: The podcast that the Los Angeles Times did on the real-life crime story of Debra Newell, a successful businesswoman who went from being unlucky in love to marrying a man that she soon realized was not the person she thought him to be was masterful, and so I was excited that the television series that was adapted from the podcast hit Netflix. While the limited series does not reach the highs of the podcast, it is incredibly binge-worthy and dramatic, and still leaves you with the question: how is this a real story?!

• The Crown: 20th century British royalty and politics may not seem like the most riveting premise, but The Crown took me by complete surprise. Led by brilliant performances from Claire Foy, Matt Smith, and Vanessa Kirby, the show makes coronations and dinner parties thrilling and exciting. In all honesty, the scenes that focus more on British politics and less on Foy’s portrayal of Queen Elizabeth II are not as strong, but it is a series that cannot be missed. I am also sad to say goodbye to Foy at the end of season two, but excited to watch season three and see what recent Oscar winner Olivia Colman brings to the role of the beloved monarch.

• Ozark: Perhaps my favorite TV show in recent memory, Ozark is a gift from the Netflix gods. Starring Jason Bateman in a dramatic turn as Marty Byrde, a financial analyst from Chicago who has to go on the run because of his money laundering dealings with the cartel, Ozark grips you from the opening scene and never lets go. Every character is complex, full of contrasting characteristics and loyalties, and the show finds a way to have its characters find realistic ways to escape, while also finding realistic ways to continue to raise the stakes. Laura Linney and Julia Garner boost the spectacular ensemble, and make Ozark another classic of the 21st century’s “Golden Age” of television.

How Coronavirus is Attacking Culture

With the coronavirus (or COVID-19 if we’re being medically poignant) on the rise, it seems that every sector of society is being attacked. Schools are closing, fans are banned sports events, music festivals are being cancelled, and even the new James Bond movie got pushed back! It is an epidemic of proportions I have never seen in my short lifetime, not just because of how it is affecting health, but how it is attacking culture.

Coronavirus simply could not have come at a worse time. The March transition from winter to spring is one that usually breathes new life into the world, accompanied by major cultural events. Sporting events such as March Madness and the Miami Open; the March/April box office push; and major music festivals such as Stagecoach and Coachella. All of these are being majorly impacted by the virus.

The coronavirus is even threatening the 2020 Olympics, which are scheduled for July in Tokyo; however, with Tokyo and neighboring city Chiba being coronavirus hotspots, the Games are seriously endangered. This would be, in my opinion, a tragedy, as a unity of cultures through the Olympic Games may just be what the world needs right about now.

The virus is also impacting colleges, specifically study abroad programs, which is also disappointing as many students become so excited for these incredible cultural and educational opportunities. Unfortunately, COVID-19 has stripped that opportunity from them (for now).

The coronavirus is not the first epidemic to sweep the globe, and it certainly will not be the last; however, at a time with such distrust and paranoia in the world, the way coronavirus is attacking the cultural mediums that usually bring us together is disheartening. As trivial is it may sound, events like March Madness and Coachella are incredibly important, and I hope for the sake of cultural unity and progress that the coronavirus is at least maintained sooner rather than later.

Why J-Lo’s and Shakira’s Halftime Show is Important

This past Sunday, pop music icons Jennifer Lopez and Shakira joined forces at the Super Bowl to perform in the Pepsi halftime show. Aside from the praise of their incredible dancing, lights, and costumes, the cultural significance of this performance is not getting the attention it deserves.

Shakira and J-Lo both brought to the Super Bowl stage representation that has never been seen. Of course there have been performers that are people of color in the past, including Beyoncè, Bruno Mars, and Prince; however, never before has a halftime show embraced global cultures in such a way as Sunday night’s did. Shakira and J-Lo fully embraced their Latina culture, and the pride they both have for their heritage shone through on America’s biggest stage in a time in which Latin culture is not always celebrated.

Shakira sang her big U.S. hits “Whenever, Wherever,” “Hips Don’t Lie,” “Waka Waka,” and “She Wolf” but also sang songs with entirely Spanish lyrics such as “Ojos Así” and “Chantaje.” In her set, Shakira also brought out Puerto Rican trap artist Bad Bunny to sing his Spanish verse on the hit Cardi B song “I Like It.” In addition to embracing her status as a global superstar, Shakira also paid homage to her Lebanese roots by doing a zaghrouta, or a ululation common in Middle Eastern culture performed in times of celebration. Her set was a beautiful display of cultural heritage that is unprecedented on the Pepsi halftime stage.

Jennifer Lopez then came out, also embracing her Puerto Rican roots while also pulling out all of the stops to dazzle as the American icon she has come to be. Singing her biggest hits, “Jenny From the Block,” “Waiting for Tonight,” and “On the Floor",” concluding with a mashup of “Let’s Get Loud,” a Latin American pop anthem and Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA,” an icon American anthem. J-Lo’s glitzy and glamorous performance was tied up with a beautiful and not-so-subtle political statement, using lit up set pieces to resemble cages, relating to the immigration border crisis.

This halftime show will go down in history for the songs, the outfits, the unbelievable dancing, and the unity of two pop phenomenons. However, it should also go down in history for bringing Latin culture to America’s most-watched television event, and not forcing these stars to shy away from their roots, but to take pride in them and show them off to America and the rest of the world.

Ms. Monopoly: A Bankrupt Idea (From Rampage)

I am proud to be one of two sports editors for my school’s newspaper, The Rampage. For its most recent issue, I wrote an opinion piece called “Ms. Monopoly: A Bankrupt Idea” about Hasbro’s new game, Ms. Monopoly. I’ve decided to share the article I wrote here as well as I feel it is an important topic that has not gotten much media attention. It is a good assessment of how far our society still has to go in regard to gender equality and representation. I also attribute credit to the hardworking editing staff of The Rampage who revised my article for press. Thank you!

Ms Monopoly: A Bankrupt Idea

On September 9, 2019, Hasbro Game and Toys announced Ms. Monopoly, the newest installment in their Monopoly game franchise. Hasbro promotes the game as a game where “women make more than men do.” Now, a few months out of the game’s release, it is safe to say that Hasbro’s new game was not a million dollar idea.

Hasbro’s website calls Ms. Monopoly “the first game where women make more than men” This slogan in itself is troubling, as it promotes the message that women make more than men, as opposed to sending a message that men and women can be equal profiters. 

The game also has questionable rules that also promote gender inequalities. The starts with female players receiving more starting money than the male players, as female players start with $1,900 while male players start with only $1,500. Female players also collect $240 when they pass “Go”, while male players only get the standard $200 of regular Monopoly.

These new rules imply a dangerous notion that women need more money or a “head start” against men to be able to make more money than them. This is sending a poor message to young girls as well as young boys, the target demographics of the game, as it is telling them that girls will always need an unfair advantage to keep up with boys.

Ms. Monopoly has also tried to modernize the game from its original variation, replacing railroads with rideshare companies (like Uber), and replacing utilities with Wi-Fi. It has also substituted its iconic real estate properties with products and businesses that were created by women such as chocolate chip cookies and female athletic shapewear. 

While it is a noble idea of Hasbro to highlight women entrepreneurship, they should have found a way to do it without having to completely rework the rules and structure of Monopoly to make women succeed. The message of the game is completely out of sync with modern society, as it ultimately undermines what a woman is capable of doing in business. Girls have been beating boys in the classic Monopoly game since its origins; they did not need their own version to win.

-Emma  

The 5 Most Important Movies of The 21st Century (So Far)

With the dawn of a new decade fast approaching, I thought it would be a fun idea to reflect on what the 2000s have achieved thus far in cinema. it is hard to imagine that movies of this time could ever be compared to the greats of the 20th century, including The Godfather, Citizen Kane, Star Wars, and yes, I would go as far as to include Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs among the ranks of the most influential and important films of the century; however, in the short 19 years of cinema the 21st century has offered, there have been instant classics and exciting revolutions in the industry.

Note: this list is not assessing the “best” movies of the century, more the ones that have left the biggest impact on the industry and society as a whole.

5. The Social Network

Perhaps Aaron Sorkin’s finest piece of work, The Social Network was among the first, and by far the best movie to explore the millennial digital age. Strengthened by impeccable performances and the award-winning script, The Social Network will be remembered as one of the defining movies of the decade and the century (and in my humble opinion, should have beat The King’s Speech for Best Picture at the 2011 Oscars). It started off the 2010s with a movie for a new decade and set the tone for what movies about the Internet and movies about modern people should look like.

4. Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings Franchises

Although this may seem like a slight cop-out, as this slot includes a collection of films all in the fantasy genre, they all have served a pivotal role as a whole in this century. Both sprouting form revolutionary fantasy book series, Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter have both shown just how powerful the fantasy genre can be, both financially and creatively, as Lord of the Rings: Return of the King went as far to win the Oscar for Best Picture in 2004. These franchises set the stage for more ambitious visual effects and legitimized fantasy as a genre, paving the way for the boom of superhero movies (that we will soon discuss).

3. Finding Nemo

A staple in animation storytelling, Pixar’s first (of a record 9 wins) Academy Award for Best Animated Feature, and the catalyst for the career of Ellen DeGeneres, Finding Nemo elevated the realm of animation to new heights. It is a film that is associated with some of the fondest and vivid memories of my childhood, and for good reason. Nemo has heart, beautiful visuals, and a perfect mix of childhood entertainment and emotional moments of love and family. Nemo took Pixar to a new level and propelled them into their dominant streak at the box office and among critics; Finding Nemo is a movie that will not be slipping from the minds of the public anytime soon.

2. Avatar

Is Avatar one of the greatest movies of our time? Can you recall specific plot points? Are you emotionally connected to the characters? No. However, not only did Avatar become the highest grossing film of all time (up until 2019), but it ushered in the era of 3D film experiences, and was a pop culture moment. Everyone went to see Avatar because of the astonishing feat that it was, no matter the quality of the story; it was an experience anyone who enjoyed film had to see. Avatar is a movie that will forever hold a place in film history, and that cannot be overlooked.

1. Iron Man/Dark Knight

This is it. No, it is not the Avengers, and it is not Captain America: Civil War, or any subsequent Marvel films. These two movies started the age of the superhero movie and have completely altered the film industry. The Dark Knight showed that there could be serious comic book movies, as it was directed by one of the industry’s most respected, Christopher Nolan, and was Oscar nominated in several categories (winning for Best Supporting Actor, disgustingly snubbed for Best Director and Best Picture). The Dark Knight allowed for movies like Black Panther to have such critical success. As for Iron Man, this movie kicked off the Marvel Cinematic Universe , which is unquestionably the most successful franchise of all time (maybe only rivaled by Star Wars). Marvel movies have created household names in actors such as Chris Hemsworth and Chris Evans, and revived the career of Robert Downey Jr., who has had a grip on highest paid actor for almost every year since playing Tony Stark.

Superhero movies, though more controversial as of late, have irreversibly changed movies, for better or for worse, in no way that possibly any other film has before.

The Scarlet Letter: An Underwhelming Introduction to American Literature

This year in English, the focus of my class is on reading and exploring classic American literature, starting with the Puritans and The Scarlet Letter, all the way to The Great Gatsby and beyond. And while I am excited to further familiarize myself with such iconic titles, The Scarlet Letter was not all I hoped it would be. 

There were some elements of the novel I enjoyed. Hester Prynne could be a twenty-first century woman who just happens to be dealing with eighteenth-century issues. Being a single mother and the hardships and judgement that come with that are still very relevant issues today, and Hester is an excellently written female character, even more impressive is the fact that she was written in a time when women were rarely considered “complex.”

I also thought the symbolism of the scarlet letter was creative and perhaps the best developed “character” of the novel. It added an added layer of depth that helped carry the plot; the evolution of the letter’s meaning was also an interesting progression.

My gripes with The Scarlet Letter has nothing to do with the novel being “old”; some of my favorite books come from older eras. I actually love the storyline of the novel, especially when the plot finally starts to be explored. My main issues are unfortunately the fault of author Nathaniel Hawthorne himself. Hawthorne’s horrendous pacing combined with his half-baked character development makes The Scarlet Letter a great story that is hard to get through. 

First, the pacing. The first 100 pages or so of the novel are a collection of elaborate descriptions and intense discussions, none of which lead to any action. Dragging out long sentences, sometimes even paragraphs, about the natural surroundings of the character, or what they’re looking at, do little to enhance the narrative.  And once the story starts to ramp up, specifically as Hester and Dimmesdale reunite to plot against the manipulative Chillingworth, the pacing becomes rushed, and the novel comes to a very abrupt and unsatisfying ending. Loose ends were wrapped up in short and convenient little bows, with little explanation as to how or why certain things happen, like why Chillingworth leaves his fortune to Pearl when she is not even his child, or how Hester is welcomed back into the community.

I also felt that the character development was rushed, excluding Hester, who was a captivating and well-rounded character throughout the novel. Dimmesdale’s transition from the secretive and depressed reverend to the great father and “brave” confessor of sins is unbelievable; Dimmesdale’s development is extremely out of character. He works best as a character when he is the cowardly man who cannot face his sins, but does not have to because the public loves him; this works better as a foil to Chillingworth, who, although has impure motives, has strong conviction and is not afraid to stay true to his intentions. 

Pearl was also a character who fell off the map in the second half of the story, and while this was intentionally done to fit Hester’s character development, she played such a major role in the first 100 pages, and I wanted to see more of her perspective towards the end. I also thought her ending, simply getting Chillingworth’s inheritance, was anticlimactic for such a pivotal character.

Overall, I respect The Scarlet Letter and its place in American literature’s history. However, I would not read it again, and I would not recommend this book if it was not considered a “classic.” Hester Prynne deserved a more well-rounded supporting cast, and unfortunately, Nathaniel Hawthorne was too preoccupied with including nature and symbolism to give her that. 

My Weekend in Philly: Cheesesteaks Not Included.

This weekend, my family and I went on an excursion to the historical city of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. And while no, I didn’t visit the Liberty Bell (my 5th grade field trip already covered that), nor did I eat any Philly cheesesteaks, I was able to get a close-up look at our nation’s former capital.

Philly, similar to Boston, is a city that in modern day still remains a center of evolving culture, diverse people, elite universities, and great sports teams, in addition to its incomparable roots in American history. Philadelphia’s connection to America’s past in inescapable; artwork, sculptures, and architecture from the beginning of our country still remain and are embraced. Philadelphia’s NBA even harkens back to America’s foundation, calling themselves the “76ers”.

However, Philadelphia’s bridge from the past to the present is what makes it. in my opinion, a more intriguing city than Boston. Almost like small cities within the larger whole of Philadelphia, you can totally remove yourself from the history and be immersed in a twenty-first century metropolis, bustling with contemporary art museums, stadiums and arenas, and a diverse and lively night life.

In my short visit to Philadelphia, i was fortunate enough to visit the University of Pennsylvania, one of the most esteemed universities in the world. A member of the Ivy League, UPenn is a university that prides itself on academic excellence, a robust yet flexible curriculum, and of course, the luxury of being in the center of a major U.S. city.

I thoroughly enjoyed my visit to Penn; students were engaged in learning, taking on multiple majors, seeking summer opportunities, and volunteering their time to present to potential students. Students at Penn, like other elite universities, love to learn and grow as students and individuals, and that energy was very present on the Penn campus.

Similar to the city of Philadelphia, Penn is full of artwork, specifically sculptures, that are both beautiful and interesting, which is a good way to summarize the Penn campus. Buildings with old and historical exteriors are met with sleek and modern interiors, to maintain the” Ivy League look” if you will, while also creating the most productive work spaces for students.

While walking through the campus, I totally forgot I was in Philadelphia. The campus is big, but not too big, and has plenty going on. However, being able to step right outside the campus into a city like Philadelphia is a fantastic privilege that Penn students definitely take advantage of (and they’re encouraged to do so socially and academically).

Philadelphia was a city I liked more as I saw more, and a city I hope to return to. No, it is not New York, or San Francisco, or Washington D.C., but it is a great place to be, whether you're in the room where the Declaration of Independence was signed, or at a Taylor Swift concert, and certainly a great city to go to school, especially when there is a school at the caliber of Penn in the heart of it.

Me in front of the LOVE sculpture at the University of Pennsylvania!

Understanding Apple: Why They Can Make a $2,000 Phone

Today, September 11, 2019, Apple officially announced the anticipated annual line of iPhones (right in time for the 2019 holiday season). And although this year’s Apple event seemed pretty tame and routine compared to past years, their iPhone announcement appears to have been worth the wait; however, is this phone truly worth $2,000? And also, why is Apple able to ramp up their prices and still dominate the market?

Getting into the iPhone Pro, it turns out the months of rumors were true; Apple’s new flagship iPhone has been revealed as the “iPhone Pro”! The name, in my opinion, is very fitting, with the MacBook Pro being out for years and the iPad recently also going Pro. So what features have made this particular iPhone worthy of the Pro title?

1. The new iPhone has three cameras—yes, not one, not two, but now three (bulky and pretty unattractive) cameras. There is a telephoto lens, a wide lens, and an ultra wide lens. It may not look pretty, but it is powerful, and now there is support for slow-motion selfies, or “slofies” and now a dark camera mode that takes better photos in dark lighting, so those two features alone must bump the price up of the phone at least $500. But we will get into why people buy into this later.

2. 4K video footage now makes the iPhone have (at least on paper) the highest video quality on any smartphone in the world. And now Apple will finally allow users more editing freedom with their videos (yes, you can now crop a video—it’s about time!).

3. The A13 chip. Ah yes, this is the bad boy processor that warrants the Pro name. This iPhone will be almost too fast to handle. It also is giving users an extra five hours of battery life.

Pictured above: images of the three cameras included with the iPhone 11 Pro. Courtesy of apple.com

Now, all of these features are great, but nothing is really new or groundbreaking. So why on earth, many would ask, would anyone spend money on this particular iPhone, going upwards of $2,000?

The question of how Apple continues to charge ridiculous prices and still come out on top is perhaps one of the greatest economic (and psychologic, in my opinion) wonders of the twenty-first century. But the answer is quite simple: Apple is just that good.

Before all the Android lovers attack, I am not saying that Apple, specifically iPhones, are objectively superior to other smartphones. Other smartphones brand often create features that Apple adapts later on, or never adapt at all. Apple remains superior for two simple, yet critical reasons: the look and the ecosystem.

The Look

When you pick up an iPhone, iPad, Mac, or any other Apple product, you instantly know it is Apple. The sleek designs of their products have become iconic, and no other tech company even comes close to the beauty of Apple products. From the logo, to the stunning stock wallpapers, to the vibrant and playful app icons, Apple’s “look” is something that sucks consumers in, and that beauty is absent when looking at its competition.

The Ecosystem

While typing this on Safari, I could scroll up to the top right corner of my browser, select the share button, hit AirDrop, and within seconds share the link to this post to my phone, and whatever other iPhones, iPads, or Macs in my general vicinity. That is just one example of the highly advanced and unparalleled experience that Apple provides its consumers with. The Apple ecosystem makes everything in life easier; it connects all Apple products so seamlessly and efficiently, that living with any other tech would seem like more of a hassle than an assistant.

Apple products are simple. They’re simple to use, simple to love, and simple to sync together. And while other companies may boast bells and whistles that Apple can’t, the way that Apple has built its brand makes it almost impossible for Apple consumers to look back. Apple products truly make life easier, so yes, the iPhone 11 Pro is not the revolutionary phone Apple has ever made, not even close. And no, it’s not one I would say is worth Apple’s highest price tag. But it doesn’t matter; Apple has the liberty to charge $2,000 for a phone. And why? Because they’re that good, and they know it too.

Emma