She Said is one of the greatest movies ever made (and among the best books ever written, but this article refers more to the movie); it is in many ways similar to Spotlight, another classic. Another in the same vein as those two, which I just watched, and is also excellent, is The Keepers, which can be seen on netflix.
Normally, I don’t watch R-rated movies, because of the gratuitous violence, TMI sex scenes, or cringe-worthy language fouling the atmosphere. While I didn’t like “The F word” being used in She Said, I begrudgingly acknowledge it was possibly (unfortunately) an accurate portrayal of the way the people whose experiences were being recreated in that film spoke. For writers especially, their vocabulary should transcend usage of a word that has become grossly overused and transmits no valuable information. I understand that they usually don’t mean the word literally, but instead use it simply as a cheap intensifier in an attempt to express the depth of their outrage or height of their indignation, but still … is it really necessary?
To quote from The Mad Morality by Vernard Eller: “If … words [are] used deliberately to express, not thought, but blind, uncontrolled passion, then the gift of language is cheapened and undercut.”
As is obvious from the above, once in a great while I will make an exception to my normal rule of eschewing R-rated movies. When the violence is not gratuitous or glorified, such as in many anti-war movies (which most movies about war are), I can “take” the depiction of gore in the interests of realism, to show people that, unlike the old John Wayne-era movies, bullets don’t cause people to instantly morph into skilled acrobats tumbling artistically off of a roof, or martyrs stylistically going out in a blaze of glory and hail of bullets, clutching their stomach and falling to the earth with an “oof” or “ugh” but not visibly maimed.
I also make exceptions for movies that explore hard truths, such as She Said and Spotlight exposing sexual harassment and exploitation, as well as All Quiet on the Western Front and The Deer Hunter revealing the intolerable insanity and inhumanity of war.
A garland to those who made these movies, which I consider to be a public service; a pox on the estates of those who make it necessary to produce these types of movies. I view the villains of these tales (the perpetrators and perpetuators of sexual abuse and grief-generating warfare) as the most vile and abhorrent of criminals.
I had a teacher in high school (Mr. Martin — I don’t recall his first name) who was one of the best instructors I ever had, although I didn’t recognize him as such at the time. He had a sign prominently posted in his classroom which read: “If you’re not the solution, you’re part of the problem.”
It took me a while to come around to his way of thinking as proclaimed on that sign, but it’s true, isn’t it? How do these systemic abuses of power, which wreak havoc on society and ruin lives, occur in the first place? Isn’t it because the evil geniuses (and occasionally doofuses) behind the mayhem have been enabled by those around them? Nobody has called them out. The enablers don’t necessarily like what’s happening, but they turn a blind eye because it means a paycheck to them, or because they just don’t want to “rock the boat” or attract attention to themselves. I say hail to the muckrakers and boat-rockers. Continue to carve deep your heel-marks.
A big part of being the solution rather than the problem, or an enabler of the problem, is to reject the opportunities that arise to take advantage of other people, and refuse to tolerate others being abused. Speak out. Draw attention. “If you see something, say something.” Don’t let the scumbags get away with it. It is the civic-minded thing to do, and it can also promote our own interests later. To paraphrase an old chestnut, “First they came for the Women, and I did not speak out—Because I was not a Woman...”
Why do men so often take advantage of women, anyway? The sad answer is simply because, way too often, they can do it and get away with it. Those that can take advantage often do. What arrogance! How often we hear of men (who are either physically, financially, psychologically, or influentially powerful) who harass women. They do it because they can, and because they (themselves) are weak, selfish, and evil. It’s so typical. It’s such a stereotype — the boss or business owner with his mistress or mistresses, the philandering or sexually abusive athlete, actor, director, politician, or musician (and, of course, it’s not just the rich and famous who are always the miscreants).
Also deserving a dishonorable mention is those who rate women (and pre-women, aka girls) based on their physical appearance. Women are almost as bad as men at this, though. I hear both men and women quite frequently refer to any female they are talking about as beautiful, as if physical beauty is the only or most important characteristic for them to possess. Can’t they aspire to something of greater true value? Can’t the would-be-complimenters think of some adjective other than “beautiful”? I don’t hear people referring to each other’s sons as “muscular” (except on rare occasions, when such is manifestly the case). Using that word (“beautiful”) as the ne plus ultra of femininity is at least somewhat demeaning, I think. I know those who say it don’t “mean anything” by it, but still…
Blues-rock guitarist Johnny Winter once related how his mother wanted him and his brother Edgar to avoid pursuing music as a profession (something they both ended up doing) because “all musicians are on drugs.” Johnny told her, no mom, it doesn’t have to be that way. But then, in relating the story, he said that his mother had been right, after all.
But actually, Johnny was right when he said that it doesn’t have to be that way. There are many big names, even in the rock world (known for its excesses), who said no to drugs. Among some of the more well-known abstainers are Bruce Springsteen, Frank Zappa, the Who’s vocalist Roger Daltrey, and even “the Motor City Madman,” Ted Nugent.
The point is, my fellow men, that just because something is possible for us, or becomes available to us, whether it be drugs or women or what-have-you, doesn’t mean that it gives us carte blanche to take advantage of the situation. It’s not smart. It’s not right. Cue William Blake's “mind-forged manacles.”
Don’t be a stereotype. Don’t be a caricature. Don’t be predictable. Take the path less chosen; it can make all the difference. It can make all the difference to you, and to those who might otherwise have become victims of the wicked, worn-out traditions of bullying and exploitation practiced by too many men for too long.
It doesn’t have to be this way.