By K. A. Laity
We don’t really need to see the true grit of history, do we?
The road to Oscar success for women can be easily codified, as Film Site does for us:
"Biographies of remarkable, real-life individuals (showbiz figures and entertainers) and portrayals of the mentally ill are heavily represented among Oscar winners (and nominees), particularly in the acting awards. It helps an actress's chances of winning (or being nominated for) an Oscar if the character dies during the movie, or is alcoholic (or drug-addicted), or is a murderess."
It seems that Natalie Portman will most likely prove the winner this year, despite the incredible performance turned in by Jennifer Lawrence in the finest film of the year, Winter's Bone, for her turn as a prima ballerina falling apart, given that True Grit's Hailee Steinfeld received a nomination as a supporting actress, despite being the star of the film.
It's ironic that a saccharine "biography of a remarkable, real-life" man, The King's Speech, has scooped so many nominations when somewhat less saccharine "biography of a remarkable, real-life" woman, Made in Dagenham, was overlooked completely (right down to the Billy Bragg-penned theme song sung by real former Dagenham worker, Sandie Shaw).
I seem to be alone in my mystification at the acclaim The King's Speech has garnered. Apart from the awkward camera angles and overwrought score, the thin script relies upon being sold by stellar acting on behalf of Firth and Rush—and Bonham-Carter as the lone woman, in that oh so reliable role of woman-as-cheerleader. This bromance revolves around the rather tired "opposite side of the tracks" motif. Maybe it's just that I don't buy a speech therapist who'd worked with men just back from Gallipoli calling a pampered royal "the bravest man I've ever known" but my class (or lack thereof) may be showing.
While similarly sentimentalized (Richard Curtis, you have so much to answer for), at least at the heart of it, Made in Dagenham deals with truly momentous events—sorry, I don't buy the idea that Britain would have been devastated by a stuttering king and immediately fallen under Hitler's control, which seems to be the subtext of Speech. Instead a group of unlikely women doggedly persisted in demanding fairness and helped bring about The Equal Pay Act of 1970. As the end credits remind us, most industrialized nations followed suit shortly thereafter (never mind the continued the failure of the slightly earlier US version).
Maybe the film would have been better received if they had chosen to keep it closer to the real story. The cast headed by Sally Hawkins is terrific, but filmmakers seem to believe that audiences won't go see films without pretty people in the leads. British films still have a much greater diversity and realism among their casts than the blandness of American films, but you can see just how made over the story is when we get to the footage of the real heroines at the end. There's so much terrific story here, it's a shame that we get clichéd episodes like the wacky daddy-can't-cook scene and the bumbling bureaucrats. Think how much more engaging Miranda Richards' part would have been if she'd been sparring with a veritable Sir Humphrey rather than Heckel and Jeckel.
We have to trust that women's stories deserve serious treatment; they may still get dismissed as "chick flicks" but we can be proud of them without reservations.
K. A. Laity writes so much that she had to create some pseudonyms to keep her colleagues from thoughts of murder. A tenured medievalist at a small liberal arts college, she mostly tries to find ways to avoid meetings in order to write more . Find her on Facebook or follow her on Twitter to hear the latest opinionating and blather.