We are in the era of peak TV; there is so much new content in any given month that one cannot grasp a quarter of it (though one does find the time to rewatch Frasier holiday episodes for the fifteenth time). But for the most part, it’s a boy’s club. Programs created by men, for men, about men. Looking at the hall of fame, the shows that always come up- The Sopranos, The Wire, Mad Men, Breaking Bad, all fit this narrative. They are all, on some level, shows about how complicated it is to be a man in this world. I don’t mean to diminish any of these shows, as many are remarkable achievements of TV cinema, but the male-oriented perspective can sometimes get a little exhausting.
And by the way, I have never met a man as conflicted with his own being as literally every man on a prestige cable drama. I also don’t want to diminish the work of the women who have been creating great TV for the duration of the golden era. Your mileage may vary on Shonda Rhimes, Jenji Kohan, Lena Dunham or many other women in the field, but they all are, to various degrees, creating interesting, thought-provoking works and shaking up the television landscape. But there always seem to be asterisks next to their names- a desire not to just take the work by its own merits but as a woman’s show. And even though I’m currently labeling much of prestige television as a depressing, testosterone-filled, exhausting landmine- that isn’t the narrative that generally surrounds it.
This year FX and HBO- two of the main offenders in the sad-sack-anti-hero genre of viewing- each released star-powered miniseries that countered this narrative. Namely Big Little Lies- a seven hour miniseries exploring the lives of wealthy mothers in Monterey California starring Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, and Laura Dern; and Feud, an eight part series detailing the rivalry between legendary actresses Bette Davis and Joan Crawford starring Jessica Lange and Susan Sarandon. What excited me about these series weren’t the impressive cast lists and the skilled writing and direction. Neither is perfect; both have elements I could do without. But there is something about the approach to each of these series that is so thrilled to be what it is- female content taking that initiative seriously.
As a cinema studies student I am asked a lot about the films I love. The truthful answer is that I love romantic comedies, I love melodramas, I love musicals. All of which can be slightly embarrassing to admit at times, although I am well-versed in defending the genius of My Best Friend’s Wedding. Somehow genres that are targeted towards women are lesser- acceptable only as guilty pleasures, but cannot be mentioned in the same vain as the true masterpieces of film. This is true to media on a larger scale- everybody is shocked when Teen Vogue turns out diligent political reporting. Today female-driven content is hardly being made for mainstream audiences, though we do get to be the smart sidekick in an occasional superhero movie.
Both Feud and Big Little Lies traffic in negative female stereotypes that could so easily be lazy clichés. Rich vain women who engage in petty catfights and create seemingly meaningless drama out of insignificant events. Stories of Bette Davis and Joan Crawford doing just that on the set of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? have been Hollywood folklore in the decades since. On it’s face, it simply seems as though two powerful women couldn’t leave their egos at the door and were too self absorbed to share the spotlight. Feud delves into this perception, and how Crawford’s and Davis’ egos and pride were safety nets against the rabid sexism and ageism in the Hollywood studios. Women were never costars- there was room for one star in any given movie and maybe a mousy best friend if you’re lucky. Joan Crawford wasn’t Bette Davis’ peer, she was her rival. They were programmed to despise each other because for producers and audiences- it was one or the other. As a future audience member I was, of course, Team Davis because I favour substance over style, but Feud made me question this and not just because of my distrust of Susan Sarandon. It doesn’t make excuses for each star’s petulant diva behaviour, but it has deep empathy for both of them and unlike producers of the era, it doesn’t make the audience choose one.
Big Little Lies is based on the novel of the same name by Lianne Moriarty, which has been categorized in the genre of “chicklit” (so readers know they aren’t supposed to take it seriously!). Now this show gave us not one, not two, but five leading female roles. Hollywood of 2017 is different than the Hollywood that Bette Davis and Joan Crawford experienced, but it is still very rare for A-list actresses to be co-leads of movies. But unlike 1962, today they don’t have to hate each other. The only thing that has been more entertaining than Big Little Lies is the press tour and the Instagram Accounts of the stars of Big Little Lies. The series was a perfect little encapsulation of great performances, compelling storytelling, and also just a fun enjoyable completely non-depressing television.
Just as there was a race between Bette and Joan for the Best Actress Oscar in 1962 there will be a race for the Best Actress in a Limited Series Emmy this September- presumably a friendlier one. My guess is it will likely go to Nicole Kidman who gives a subtle and devastating take on a woman in an abusive marriage- many have said the show is worth watching for her therapy scenes alone.
However, my heart says Reese because my love for her will never die as I found a collection of flair with her face on it that was gifted to me in my stocking in the third grade. Now it seems funny, though I’m sure when I was nine, I took it completely seriously and put them on my bag with pride. These two shows did not solve all the problems with women’s narratives, and the larger narratives surrounding them. But it is a rarity to see women’s content taken seriously and driving the conversation. And nobody should be embarrassed to admit they enjoyed these two gems; these are perfectly innocent, entertaining, stimulating, and completely worthwhile- pleasures.