She’s just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to DIE, DIE, DIE!
Is this an awesome movie? HELL YES. Do I want to talk about much else beyond Eva Green’s role in it?
Guess who is not filling her days worrying about whether her pores are small enough, her tits are big enough, and if she’s underage enough to appear in a Robin Thicke music video?
Her and THIS army, thank you very much:
(But I wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall were the red carpet fashion police brave enough to ask her who she’s wearing. Because “the entrails of my enemies” would make for a pretty epic response.)
How did such a bad-ass female lead land in the middle of a big budget epic adventure saga – commanding an army, no less? (And nary a pair of Lara Croft-issue, uterus-revealing short shorts in sight!) If you keep this up, Hollywood, we women might get the wrong idea. You know….that we’re capable of being so much more than decorative.
Lest you think I’m making much ado about nothing, there’s plenty of debate underway in the media about what being a feminist really means, and whether feminism is still relevant. Sadly, there are a lot of otherwise strong and capable women shunning the “F” word out of a fear of marginalizing themselves. (Sorry, but a measly little word can’t marginalize you. Gender-based discrepancies in earning potential, and handing the power to control your body over to male politicians, and tearing other women down in order to build yourself up will accomplish that nicely for you, if that’s your thing.)
Eva Green’s turn as Artemisia is a revelation. At one point, after she has unleashed her Persian forces upon an embattled Greece, she declares, “I am not here as a WITNESS!” before literally leaping into the fray. It doubles rather handily as a battle cry for any actress (or woman, for that matter) who has ever suffered through a role as a thankless piece of arm candy, or supportive girlfriend/mistress/wife/mother, having been told that she must wait in the wings for a man to do something that will solidify her raison d’etre.
Any insightful and evolved human who has been alive on this planet for more than five minutes knows there is more to women than the madonna/whore dichotomy. That we can strategize about way more than wedding planning or how to pack a minivan full of groceries and offspring. And if faced with an either/or proposition, a good many of us would choose to be lifted up by an awesome career opportunity over a pair of stilettos. (But I’ll totally take these, TOO! They go perfectly with my Medusa fixation.)
…….THAT’S a sex scene, goddamn it! Sometimes you just gotta sheathe the swords long enough to….uh……sheathe the sword. (News flash: not all feminists are man-hating harpies. Many of us enjoy all manner of sword play.)
Alas, Artemisia ultimately dies at the hands of Themistocles. But if she had to go…..it sure as shit wasn’t because she was starving herself to death trying to achieve optimal “thigh gap.” As the oft-quoted Emiliano Zapata once famously declared, “It’s better to die on your feet than to live on your knees.” (Ahem, ladies. And amen.)