Lost Girl: Interviewed

But not by me, unfortunately.

I just posted this over on my tumblr but I thought it was worth re-posting over here.

An interview with “Lost Girl” creator, Michelle Lovretta, hits on basically everything I talked about over here.

Here’s the part that I liked best (with a few choice bits highlighted by me):

4. Why did you decide to portray sex the way you do on the show?

Simply put?  Because it’s the way I personally see sex, so it’s the most natural and intuitive way for me to portray it.   As for the more complete answer, When Prodigy (our studio) asked me to create a show about some kind of bisexual superhero who uses sex as part of her arsenal, my first thought was “hell, yes!”  But after that initial excitement came trepidation – it is so, so incredibly easy with a template like that to create something mind-numbingly insulting, anti-female, and exploitative.  I wouldn’t want my name on that.  And, as someone who respects both the straight and queer communities, I was afraid of alienating either of them in the process… or, of just making neutered, boring TV by overthinking it and being too PC.  Gah!!  The challenge was to create a fun, sex-positive world that celebrates provocative cheesecake for everyone, without falling into base stereotypes or misogynistic (or misandristic) exploitation along the way.  I also really wanted to defend the bisexual community and counter some sad tropes out there (bisexuals are sluts, can’t commit, are just afraid to be gay, yadda yadda) while also valuing and representing female friendships that have nothing sexualized about them at all.

So, I came up with a few internal rules and I moved to Canada that first year to co-showrun the show (with the fab Mr. Peter Mohan) partly just to help institute them:

1. sexual orientation is not discussed, and never an issue;

2. no slut shaming – Bo is allowed to have sex outside of relationships

3. Bo’s male and female partners are equally viable;

4. Bo is capable of monogamy, when desired;

5. both genders are to be (adoringly!) objectified — equal opportunity eye candy FTW.

We haven’t always succeeded on all fronts, granted.  Mea culpa.  It’s hard to honor all those good intentions in the chaotic thick of production when manic rewrites and a million disparate studio/network notes need to be addressed.  But I can tell you we’ve always tried, and that I believe Prodigy intends to continue supporting those original mandates for the life of the show.

To be clear: I’m aware (and thrilled!) that boiled down to our essence we’re just a fun, charmingly-flawed, quip-happy little series about monsters and heartache, and I make absolutely no claims of Deep Meaning or Super Importance!  But, in a way, that in itself is its own little victory: we’re clearly at a point where a main character’s orientation not only doesn’t have to be swept under the rug, but also doesn’t have to be a big damn deal.  Bo has lots of sex, with men, women, humans, Fae, threesomes… and she’s still our hero, still a good person worthy (and capable) of love, and that’s a rare portrayal of female sexuality.  Also, a show built around a bisexual lead doesn’t have to BE about her bisexuality — orientation can just be an interesting element of a story, and not the story itself, and that’s the central spirit of our show.  I consider that “I’m here, I’m queer, and it’s no big deal” approach to a main character still fairly rare and wonderful, at least in North America.  It’s also rare to have a female lead who is so honestly sexual, without judgment.  I don’t profess to be striking any new ground, here — I’m just saying that this is ground I’m very happy and privileged to be building on. In short: however long Lost Girl lasts, and however popular it does or doesn’t become internationally, I think the single element I will remain proudest of is just that we’ve been able to create and put out into the world a sex positive universe where a person’s sexual orientation is unapologetically present and yet neither defines them as a character, nor the show as a whole.

8. Is there anything more you would like to add?

Most of these questions (and, therefore, my answers) have been canted towards sex, so I’d like to clarify that this show isn’t about sex for me: it’s about relationships, and one of the core relationships on Lost Girl is NOT sexual, by design.  On a show that deals with female sexuality, I felt it was crucial to also demonstrate that sex and romance aren’t the only ways that Bo measures a relationship’s worth, to give the show balance.   Fans may have noticed that Kenzi clarified her hetero orientation at the end of ep 101 — pretty much the only time someone has addressed their orientation directly on our show.  That line was necessary because in production I kept running into directors who wanted to sexualize the dynamic between Bo and Kenzi, to make the show “hotter”.  I was determined to protect their platonic-yet-epic BFF-ness, so I made sure it was written in as canon.   Partly, this was to debunk the gay-panic cliche that bisexual people sexualize everyone, and are incapable of platonic friendship.  But there was another, simpler and more personal reason:I think friendship is the fifth element.  Truly.  I think it’s that substantial and nourishing a thing, so friendship and loyalty are part of the bone structure of Lost Girl, always just under the skin.   So, hidden in amongst all the romance and cleavage and threesomes, the Lost Girl Bo and Kenzi relationship is my own little love poem to all the BFFs out there who do it right. I salute you.

It’s interesting to note that while acknowledging that this show is cheesy, quipy, and ultimately cheesecake; Lavretto understands it’s all the more important to deal with sexuality respectfully. Again, you can read the rest of the interview over here.

What happened to me?

So yeah, this just happened. I’m tumbling now. Tumblr-ing. Whatever you want to call it.

And it’s like soooooo oddly addictive,

siriusly

I’m sorry I haven’t posted much but, you know, the real world job etc. and stuff.

Anyhow…. look forward to a guest-post that will be cross-posted here and also at the World Weaver’s Press blog.

Until then, rapid fire posts occurring here: http://redshana.tumblr.com/

Thief, Doctor, and Succubus: The Women of “Lost Girl”

I like bad television. Not always but sometimes and yes, I have a slew of guilty pleasures. But more than bad television, I like those shows that revel in their questionable status. Those shows that openly accept their status as guilty pleasure and challenge you to question if maybe they’re better than you’d like to admit while still holding on and indulging in their own camp and soap appeal. The newest show to join that lot for me? Syfy’s Lost Girl.

Okay, so technically it’s not a Syfy show, it’s been on since 2008 in its’ native Canada, but unless I have readership I don’t know about (any Canadians give a holler) if you’ve heard of this show and you’re reading this post, it’s probably because of Syfy’s current airing.

The show is about Bo, the above-center Anna Silk, a succubus who was raised by humans and didn’t become aware of her Fae (think magic/fairy/non-human) World powers until she discovered them Rogue-style by killing her first boyfriend as they were about to get it on for the first time. In this Fae World, succubi feed off of sexual energy, so she runs away jumping from town to town killing dudes and dudettes (more on that later) until the powers that be of the Fae World show up and tell her she has to pick sides. Sides of what exactly?  Why the Light and Dark Fae, of course!

Because she’s all “I don’t get this” and “I don’t belong” she chooses to be neutral and chill with her human friend Kenzi, the green-streaked Ksenia Solo, who is snarky and cute and really there for her and stuff; together, they decide to form a supernatural detective agency which allows for plot-lines of them sticking their noses into matters of which they are woefully uninformed. And so Season 1 goes, with Bo and Kenzi mismanaging the politics of the Fae World and occasionally, almost getting killed.

Aside from the reasonably interesting version of Fae world-building, the show bids for its audience through Whedon-esque banter and at least one sex scene between Bo and the wolf-shifter/werewolf Dyson, the above thoughtful and seated Kris Holden-Ried (also, a dude named Kristen? Wha-?[and double what, he was totally on Degrassi!]), per episode because that’s how she heals and the premise seems to demand for an Angel to her Buffy. At the same time, there’s a budding romance-laden professional relationship between Bo and scientist/doctor-for-the-Light Lauren, far right blonde Zoie Palmer, which offers a slight switch-up to the typical television romantic triangle.

This show is driven by sex and identity, due to the nature of its star character who is learning to control her sexual urges all the while searching for information to find her real parents, but it glosses over any real discussion of sexual identity. This could possibly be excused by the fact that the show is Canadian, if it was American it seems like writers would feel more pressed to make this a main topic of discussion. Either way, the sexual identity of Bo, is the most pervasive metaphor underlying all story-lines.

via Lost Girl Confessions

It’s hard not to read into it: Bo is consistently asked to choose one side over another, Light Fae or Dark Fae, but stubbornly remains in-between. Just as her desire leads her to engage in relationships with both Dyson and Lauren, all the while she laments not wanting to be forced to rule the other one out. Bo is clearly unwilling to accept simple white and black, male and female binaries. Her relationship with Kenzi acts as a a balancing point, sisterly and affectionate peppered with easily managed arguments, where she can develop a non-sexual relationship outside of the triangle.

Somewhere between this love triangle and the collegiate atmosphere with her roomie, what is slowly forming is my new favorite reason to watch the show: despite its fantasy setting and less-than-literary goals, Lost Girl has produced three female characters that are reasonably well-balanced, interesting and interact with each other in basically realistic female relationships. This isn’t to say that these characters and their relationships aren’t entirely unproblematic…

A Community for “Community”

By now, no doubt, even if you haven’t watched Community you’ve probably heard about it. Yes, you might have only heard about it because it was pulled from the air for an indefinite amount of time but now is the time to really pay attention because it’s coming back!

Aren't they cute?

If you read this blog regularly, you know that I’ve been a long term fan of Community, especially Danny Pudi who plays Abed.

While it was away, the online community for Community has social-networked itself into some healthy buzzes of recognition. As a fan, it’s been fun to watch. In the same way that Firefly acolytes, Browncoats, are still creating* art inspired by the Whedon one-season epic, Human Beings (the fictional mascot of the show’s fictional community college) have celebrated the show in its absence.

My favorites include this spoofy drawing of the cast as Batman villains:

Abed-Joker wonders if he and Abed-Batman are the same person...

As well as Megan Lara’s tee of Abed and Troy in the style of Calvin and Hobbes*:

Cool, cool cool cool.

However, as Vulture points out: if it’s going to stay back, more people need to watch it.

The question is always, how do you make that happen? The article from Vulture “Community for Newbies”  gives you a list of five episodes to start from because

Community is often called “meta” because of its frequent allusions — an entire Claymation episode, an Apollo 13 homage, a Halloween episode that doubled as a zombie movie. But that’s not quite the point: Community treats genre as malleable. Think of genre here they way you might think of patients on doctor shows, or cases on lawyer shows, or spoof-centric episodes of The Simpsons. (You can hear creator Dan Harmon expound on this on his “WTF” episode.) Don’t worry about catching every nuance of the homage — just enjoy the ride.

And I completely agree with this. Part of what gives Community its charm, and fan-base, is that it’s willing to push the envelope on what we expect from big non-cable networks.  While it’s clear that plenty of people love this show, it’s clear that many of them are geeks and geek-o-philes, an audience that is fiercely loyal whether or not the shows/movies/etc. they love stick around. Part of this may because it’s easier for misfits to relate to the show.

As Madeleine Davies describes:

What we have in Community is a world where characters of different racial and religious backgrounds are defined not by their census categories, but by their very extreme personality quirks. The study group at the show’s epicenter has not bound together because of or in spite of their differences, but because of their undeniable love for one another.

The show is also refreshingly feminist and non-racist, as noted in a great round-table with the women of the cast and one of their (yes, there’s more than one!) female writers over on The Daily Beast. Where Gillian Jacobs re-counts a feminist scholar referring to her as her character: “Britta Perry, feminist icon,” Yvette Nicole Brown discusses how happy she has been to not be pigeonholed as the “sassy black woman,” and Alison Brie notes that Danny Pudi has played “four or five Sanjays” with an accent.

I just wonder if people who don’t fall into this main group of geeks will be able to take the advice to “enjoy the ride.”  Because it’s that group that needs to be courted/converted/begged into the fold to keep this show alive.

So what do you think it will take to keep Community afloat? Have you watched it? Will you start? Are you a loyal fan, and if so, what are you doing to spread the word?

Community returns to NBC on March 15 at 8:00 (set your DVRs NOW!) and past seasons are available on DVD, Netflix, and Hulu Plus.

*yes, I know that I linked to the same source/artist twice… but Megan Lara‘s stuff is super cool!

Max Landis, Famous Geek Progeny

Okay, if you’ve already had a handful of people tell you to watch this video and haven’t yet, I’m adding myself to that handful and telling you to watch it now:

At this point, you only have yourself to blame.

I have to admit, I saw this video posted at least three different places before I watched it and each time, the person posting it said a version of  “I’m not sure why I waited so long to watch this but damn it’s good, you should watch it too!” And it was only posted on February 3, seriously.

Having said all this, Max Landis, son of movie-maker-mover-shaker John Landis, seems to be hitting a nerve.

making dad proud...

I’ve spoken about the movie he co-wrote, Chronicle, and the emotional impact it had on me just a couple of weeks ago but it’s more eloquently detailed in this piece from Roger Ebert far-flung-correspondent Omer M. Mozaffar. Mozaffar’s The Pursuit of Power succinctly describes how the movie

starts out as a curious plastic toy. Along the way, however, it carefully reveals itself as a colossal amusement park of screams and shouts. Don’t let anyone spoil this movie for you, because it is the cult film of its generation.

It’s hard to watch the above Youtube video without feeling this description echoes as a description of the young Landis (he’s a year younger than me, that feels young). In the three and a half videos (including the one above) that I watched with him this morning, I grew more and more interested in what Landis had to say.

Sure, we can say that he’s carefully crafting this casual yet intellectual geek persona and I recognize that it might not at all reflect who he actually is but watching him make a Caprese salad or drunkenly goof off all while waxing on about the history of comic storylines touches me right to my geek core. In short, this is a guy I could easily see myself being friends with. At least, that’s the feeling I get.

And in a culture where celebrity is as much about your persona as your actual talent, it’s always interesting to see someone who seems to actively and cleverly cultivating both, famous parentage or not. It’s rare to see someone this early in their career resonate in this way.

So here goes, I am officially marking Max Landis as someone to keep an eye on. Can I put some money on it?

Remember the 90s?

There’s no arguing that 90s culture has found a resurgence in a big way. Between the subtle and not so subtle fashion trends that draw inspiration from 90s grunge and flannel to florals and day-glo, like Jeremy Scott’s most recent collection pictured below, to the return of some of my favorite shows from growing up (Nickelodeon’s “The 90s Are All That” = Love!) you can see signs of it everywhere.

Eat my sweater!

But the literary theory lover in me keeps speaking up as I re-watch Clarissa explaining it all and I’m starting to question what it is about 90s culture that just seems so right right now.

I wonder if this is just a “Fashion 360⁰”, where we grow up and wear what we wanted to wear when we were 10. After watching a couple of episodes of “Clarissa Explains It All,” I found myself unsettled by how much my brain was registering Clarissa and her friend, Sam, as mini hipsters. In other words, I was confused by how familiar their fashion was to what I’ve seen people wearing now. In reality, of course, the situation is reversed. These kids, around fifteen when the show began, were dressed at the height of progressive 90s fashion. That same fashion is being revamped and sold by big name designers and then eventually, filtering out into mainstream clothing availability like the trend-setting American Apparel or the trend-relevant Target. (I recently bought an ankle-length button-down floral dress that, while being current, made me feel a lot like Amy Grant.)

Why does fashion feel so important? Fashion doubles back on itself all the time, re-inspecting those layers of past-self-representation and mining them for new fashion gold. But is there something that fashion was responding to in the 90s that we are finding ourselves trying address again in the current?

Are we still "The Now Generation"?

Buzzfeed.com just posted the article “48 Pictures That Perfectly Capture The ’90s,” that had the above Lisa Frank clothing campaign and it really caught my eye.

Are we still “The Now Generation”?

Another picture that article displayed a handful of “high-tech gadgets, built to fit easily into your backpack” that are laughable when compared to that computer-in-your-pocket existence of smart phones and that ad is probably less than 20 years old. In my lifetime, which I recognize as being relatively short, we have been witness to an astounding revolution in technology.

The 90s saw the birth of that all being accessible and it’s hard to detach my first memories of the internet with America Online and the intellectual explosive from the bright colors of Day-Glo and Lisa Frank; that’s all just as easily juxtaposed with the gritty realness of grunge rock and the death of Kurt Cobain. The 90s remain as a weird amalgamation of extremes.

And maybe that’s why I find the 90s so attractive. Sometimes, we look back to the 50s or 60s, and coming up the 20s, trying to idealize the past. We appreciate that past because we feel like we can understand it, that it was a simpler time. Maybe the 90s, are still close enough that we can identify instead of idealizing. Maybe we can see the 90s as the decade that introduced causes that were both easy to believe in and yet feel easy to digest:

Because who doesn't like Girl Power when it's sexy and sings catchy pop tunes?

As usual, I’m not sure that I’ve really come to a conclusion on this topic. I know I appreciate the influence of the 90s on our current culture and that we are reveling in its glories from a comfortable distance.  Even though feminism packaged inside sex-appeal may give us plenty of problems now, the easy-going openness of the 90s feels starkly in contrast to the Tea Party politics and Arizona white-washing. Were there negative politics in the 90s? I’m sure but I wasn’t really aware of them yet; I’m older and, with the internet, it’s harder to avoid it.

In that weird world of extreme contrasts that are somehow permeable, the loudness and brashness of Day-Glo and DIY zines allowed niches to disappear into. And maybe that’s what we’re looking for as we look back through those cultural markers of fashion, the ideals that somehow seem embedded in them. So, do we really remember the 90s? We’re just far away to know what we feel to be the capital-T-Truth of that time while it’s already glossed over with a fine sheen of nostalgia.

And also, RuPaul is definitely here forever,

RuPama? Ruobama? Via

and makes a pretty convincing first couple.

Love is for Sharing

they look friendly enough...

I never really dated growing up. I always thought it was because I was the fat kid but recent clarity on looking back shows, I wasn’t all that fat. But I was shy and I was weird; I’m sure my story isn’t all that odd.

My first kiss was Truth or Dare at a band party in seventh grade and my first real kiss was backstage at the children’s theatre I spent all of my free time at until I moved away from it. My theatre friends and I all flirted and played around but it was never serious. I tried the best I could to date a guy I met at my friend’s Quinceañera but he was a bit old for me and, thankfully, called it off before it turned into something it shouldn’t have been.

The only “boyfriend” I had in high school was a guy named Justin. For two weeks, I sat with him at lunch and watched him play Magic: The Gathering. We kissed and he told me about his cats and his knives and, upon the realization that he loved them both equally, I called it off when I realized we didn’t have that much in common.

And thus, I was left to bemoan my existence, like so many do, on every Valentine’s Day. It was at that time, back in the days before Facebook, when I still didn’t know what an Internet Browser was and thought the only grand portal to the World Wide Web was America On-Line, I would sit down and write a letter to all of my single friends.

I asked them all to join me in my loneliness, to join my Lonely Hearts Club (which I thought was truly original and ingeniously derived from a certain Beatles album) and eat garlicky food and read melodramatic poetic quotes with me on Valentine’s Day. I sorely wish I still had these so I could quote some to you.

It was around that time that I needed love too because, when I was sixteen, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. My world was set askew and amidst all this, still trying to be a kid, my friend and I had a long conversation about what love meant. (I had said “love ya'” when hanging up the phone or saying bye and he really questioned whether or not I meant it. And, true to who I am, I took him far more seriously than he had bargained for.)

Since then, I make an effort to tell everyone I love that I love them. Chances are, if I count you as a friend, I do love you. Because love is for sharing, not hiding away and later wishing you could tell someone you loved them just one more time or at all.

But look, I’m older (we all are) and all day I’ve seen people post to Facebook about the triteness of the holiday and how stressed out they are. And I’ll admit, since officially entering my later-twenties (I know, smallest violin moment here) I’ve become a bit more reserved about telling people I love them. Those same social rules and regulations that tell us that THIS is the ONE day to share love have also told me to hold back fro sake of seeming too weird.

not that hammers wouldn't be helpful...

And I have to admit, I still feel like whipping together a new version of my old email. Even though I’m engaged, that long-suffering single girl who wants to throw her arms open to the world is still in my heart, and honestly, I hate some of these traditions as much as the next person.

Every gift-giving-day that Daniel and I have been together though has ultimately been tackled by the keystone that always saves our relationship and makes it as awesome as it is: conversation. We decide in advance, no matter how un-romantic it may seem, what the holiday is going to mean to us this year. What we can afford, what we want, and what we’re going to do is always arrived at after we talk to each other openly and honestly. And while it might not yield too many surprises, it never looks much like the head-banging-anxiety portion of this:

Instead, it looks a bit more like this:

From the movie "Up."

Just a couple of best friends learning how to grow old together.

And that’s how I view Daniel, more than a boyfriend, a fiance, or whatever, is my best friend. So, if you don’t have a significant other in your life, I suggest you look to your friends because as much as Valentine’s Day is now about my relationship with him, in the past it was so very much about my relationships with all the special people who made each day a little better and a little easier. Mostly, it still is.

I may not be a relationship expert or be saying something you haven’t heard anywhere else, but I’m always a big fan of love and spreading it around.

You know, if it’s welcome 🙂

What Art Does

What Art Does

I love this artist’s attempt to give an accurate representation of the faces of Occupy Wall St. More pictures and an interview at the link.

Why Are Smart Women Always Saying How Stupid They Are?

I’ve mentioned in passing that I have a new job. I am no longer graduate student! Instead, I’m a university employee in a softly IT position.

Go geek!

What this means, for the purpose of this blog entry, is that I am often working with self-proclaimed Luddites who are taking their first step into using any kind of computer technology in the classroom. This is definitely the norm.

It is a norm that is not gender or age based, as far as I can tell. Of course, those in the Sciences are generally more prone to using technology in their courses so I guess we could say it’s slightly academically skewed (?).

Anyhow, we’re going to take a moment to go into anecdotal mode to begin the real conversation I’m interested in:

I was working with a slightly younger faculty member who, while very intelligent, was more Luddite  than I had assumed. I made the mistake of throwing some terms around that I assumed she would know based on interactions with her husband.

Her immediate reaction, instead of asking for clarification, was to tell me that she wasn’t smart enough to understand what I was talking about.

I quickly reassured her that it was my fault for assuming her to have knowledge that I didn’t normally assume people to have but the comment stuck with me throughout my day.

The truth is, it bothered me because this is something I do all the time but it’s harder to contextualize the impact of saying these kinds of things until you see someone else, someone you respect, do it themselves. This faculty member was/is not stupid or less than in anyway for needing a little extra vocabulary lesson to get up and running with the technology I was teaching her about.

In fact, when I first started this job I was really frustrated that, at the end of the first week, I didn’t understand everything. I went home feeling like I was stupid. That was until Super-Fiance-Man informed me that I was, in fact, being too hard on myself.

So, why is it that some of the most intelligent women I know are so ready to be exactly this hard on themselves?

My immediate answer is: I don’t know.

I saw a reference to a quote once (and if anyone knows more about this PLEASE let me know) that said that our generation of feminist daughters was told that they could do anything they wanted and heard that they had to do everything.

I’m not saying that all women feel this way, or even that all smart women feel this way, but there’s a big chunk of us over-achievers that (somewhere down the line) seem to feel we have inherited the burden of all To-Do Lists in our generation. Not necessarily because we feel it’s our duty but because we feel we should be able to, right?

Alas, this has turned into another rambling post. But what I really want to say is this: you don’t need to know everything. When you’re an expert in your field (even if that is a creative field and sometimes deemed less intellectual), it’s okay not to be an expert in other fields.

The learning curve can be steep but you’ve climbed steeper before.

The Industry of “I Do”

Alright folks, I’m letting you know now. Just in case you thought this whole wedding thing wasn’t a big deal: get engaged. Then everyone you have ever known will let you know exactly how awesomely big a deal your marriage will be!

Just in case the dozens of reality shows, cable channels, movies, and more hadn’t convinced you that people are obsessed with weddings, starting the walk down the proverbial aisle (even from a year away) is daunting.

I’ve been engaged since June and I was overwhelmed from Day 1 (alright, maybe it was Day 2 or 10 or something like that) by the number of things I need to do and questions I need to answer and really, just the numbers

And it’s not just a big deal that you’ve found the one. If you’re like me, by the time you get engaged your friends and family will have seen it coming (especially if you’ve told them).

This is a multi-billion dollar industry that has a multi-billion long list of choices and demands.

Already I’m having to say, we’re not really going to do that. No, I will not go over my budget, why? Because whatever that budget is it’s already going to make me uncomfortable spending that much money on one single day. Albeit a day that will have hopefully the best party I ever go to, but still one day. One party.

What has been the most confusing and frustrating part has been trying to convince other people that what I want is different from what they think I want. It’s not that I’m upset, in fact it can be quite sweet, but I am, no matter what, pretty uncomfortable.

I switch into Passover Mode: why is this day so different from all the other days?