Devin Glenn - Core Response #2

            In Producing and Consuming the Woman’s Film, Maria Laplace highlights the importance of studying the historical intertextuality of woman’s films by exploring “consumerism, the image of the female star, and women’s fiction” within the context of Now, Voyager (1942), a film very much propelled by the star power of Bette Davis (139). After giving a brief introduction of the female-targeted nature of twentieth-century advertising—which promotes the notion that beauty could be bought and that it was a woman’s responsibility to be beautiful for her husband (so as to keep his eyes from wandering)—Laplace discusses the ways in which Now, Voyager equates sickness with ugliness through the character of Charlotte (played by Davis). In Laplace’s words, this unattractiveness is both “a source as well as a symptom of her neurosis” (141). Because this is a fundamental aspect of Charlotte’s introduction, Laplace reasons that the character’s subsequent metamorphosis into a beautiful, mysterious woman (or an object of desire) acts as a cure to her illness (144). Although this is far from empowering, Laplace argues that in transforming Charlotte into a female character who fights for her autonomy and acknowledges her complex desires, Now, Voyager offers female viewers a different choice of representation, even as it is wrapped up in capitalistic regulatory structures. Throughout the rest of her piece, Laplace examines Davis’ star image and the ways in which it additionally impacted her performance as Charlotte by emphasizing Davis as a female star who worked hard to achieve her financial success and public acclaim.

As I read Laplace’s analysis of Now, Voyager, I couldn’t help but notice how many of her insights could also apply to Greta Gerwig’s Barbie (2023). I have heard many individuals criticize the film for being faux-feminist and soulless, but I might argue that even though it may labor under some of the same capitalistic pressures that Now, Voyager does, it also provides viewers with a new kind of representation—one that very consciously deconstructs the presence of the male gaze. Similar to Davis, Margot Robbie has made a name for herself as a star who has worked diligently for her success. From insisting on doing every insert shot of the characters she has portrayed in the 36 films she has starred in since her breakthrough in 2013 to her completing all of her own stunt work in her role as Harley Quinn, Robbie most certainly embodies both the “good” and the “bad” Independent Woman—just as Davis did. In addition, there is a moment in Barbie when Barbie struggles under the perception that she is ugly, a fear that is subdued by Gloria’s momentous speech about how impossible it is to be a woman, yes, but also by a good old-fashioned makeover. This implies, as does Now, Voyager, that to be feminine is to be beautiful and that beauty can be purchased. Still, I would argue that in spite of these capitalistic flaws, empowerment can still emerge from Barbie (and especially Robbie’s performance as Barbie) in the same way Laplace argues for more nuanced readings of Now, Voyager (and especially Davis’ performance as Charlotte).

Postscript: I also find it fascinating that in the same way Now, Voyager was accompanied by a press book, Margot Robbie and Andrew Mukamal (Robbie’s stylist) recently announced that they are co-producing a Barbie: The World Tour coffee table book that features all of Robbie’s iconic looks from the Barbie press tour and other related events. The parallels are endless!