I am, in a way, lucky to have lived through one of the most important, transitional periods of modern feminism, the 1970’s, which was when the media, one of the most male-dominated domains, began to make small changes in the way women were portrayed. It was during this time that as a 15-years old, I discovered my first media heroine, Charlie’s Angels. (While Charlie’s Angels was a trio of women, I will consider them here as a singular heroine.) The three lead women of this television program solved crimes and saved others, and they made an enormous impact on me. It was the first time I had ever seen women depicted as active, independent, heroic protagonists, and most importantly, as acting outside of the traditional domestic realm. I was completely fascinated by the presentation of these young women, able not only to defend themselves physically but to help others, and they soon became my role models. I saw these women as strong, and authoritative, and they begin to break apart the culturally generated “gender-role stereotypes [which] are collections of gender-specific attributes or traditional norms that differentiate typical ‘feminine’ behavior patterns from typical ‘masculine’ behavior patterns in society” (Baker & Raney, 2007, p. 26) with which I had grown up. I began to develop, for the first time, a new set of expectations for myself as a young girl. I could see alternative ways of belonging and acting in the world.
As a teenager, however, I don’t remember being aware that Charlie’s Angels (the title indicates male ownership or dominance even) presents a mixed
message of female heroism and that these policewomen are actually controlled by a generic male voice directing them from afar over a speaker. While each Angel is physical, resolute and resourceful in solving difficult crimes, each of the three women’s success is never completely or independently her own; she is still dominated by the man who trained her, Charlie. Her success is, in this case, his, too, and each woman is driven to please him (Magoulick, 2006). It is his praise, rather than the success of their endeavors, that matters, as though he awards them their power. They long for his approval; he drives them and their accomplishments. They never achieve success through solely their own deserving actions (Stephenson, Stover & Villamor, 1997). Underscoring the stereotyped female role, even as it broadened its definition through the actions of the Angels, Charlie, their boss, is always heard being attended upon by another female who serves his suggestively sexual needs and requirements, such as pouring his drinks or giving him a massage. There is no question that this off-screen female’s role, her relative subjugation to Charlie, emphasizes the status quo. Television shows like this and even later ones such as Buffy, while they portray stronger, more active female heroines, still present a male perspective and fulfill the stereotype more than a feminist ideal (Magoulick, 2006).
Indeed, just as we discussed in class, media heroines such as Charlie’s Angels pay for their independence and equality with the currency of an overly emphasized sex appeal. They only have the right to play decisive, active,
leading roles by being required to display exaggerated stereotyped feminine attributes: revealing, sexually suggestive clothing, such as bathing suits, halter tops, tight clothing, and high heels (Magoulick, 2006). They are sexually appealing women first, heroines second. As such, they are rewarded for appealing to a male fantasy rather than for being competent or intelligent. Robins is right when she observes, “Over the years, Wonder Woman’s bosom has expanded and her starry shorts have shrunk - until now she bares her butt in a thong bikini bottom worthy of Monica Lewinsky . . . The current fashion of depicting comic-book heroines as immense-breasted hyper-leggy sex nightmare/fantasies is referred to in the comic world as ‘bad girl’ art” (Robins, 1999, p. 110). Created by men, these media heroines become unrealistic, pseudo-pornographic representations. Even heroines cannot be heroines.
In contrast, male heroes are, unsurprisingly and typically, roles portrayed only by men and were shown as strong, smart and morally superior beings who saved average, “lesser” humans (Stephenson, Stover & Villamor, 1997). Characters such as Superman, Batman, the Green Lantern, Spider Man and Captain America, were all iconic, essentially macho characters, (not to mention the capitalist ideal of the all powerful individual acting alone). In contrast, it is fully documented that when women were shown on television, they are stereotyped as less active, quieter, more juvenile, and less responsible than men (Baker & Raney, 2007). Even in ads, male superheroes appear to assume the role of
strong protector, and the absence of strong women emphasizes male superiority (Stephenson, Stover & Villamor, 1997). Not only was there an historical omission or misrepresentation of women in action comics and programs, but Tuchman’s analysis strongly argues that the fact of the male-only superhero actually represents a “symbolic annihilation” of women (Tuchman, 1978 as cited in Baker & Raney, 2007). Until I had witnessed the (relative) strength and assertiveness of Charlie’s Angels, I had never before seen - in the media - women adopting traditionally male roles. As we have discussed in class, the media mirrors our social reality; through the Angels’ representation of women, I became aware of small but important changes in the expectations of women’s roles in society. My media heroines, the Angels, broadened my view of the possibilities in life.
References
Baker, K. & Raney, A. (2007). Equally super?: Gender-role stereotyping of superheroes in children’s animated programs. Mass Communications & Society, 10(1), 25-41.
Magoulick, M. (2006). Frustrating female heroism: mixed messages in Xena, Nikita, and Buffy. Journal of Popular Culture, 39(5), 729-755.
Robins, T. (1999). Wonder woman. Moxie Magazine, 20, 109-112. Retrieved February, 2011, from http://o-rdsweb1.rdsinc.com.opac.sfsu.edu
Stephenson, T., Stover, W., & Villamor, M. (1997). Sell me some prestige! The portrayal of women in business-related ads. Journal of Popular Culture, 36, 255-271.
