For both understandable and woefully misguided reasons,
feminism as it exists in the modern conversation is not what it used to be. A
branch of civil rights activism that remains at the core of some of the most
vital changes in human society, it has gone the way of an unfortunate bulk of
activist stances and become a hotbed for all things on the fringe of the
discourse. I myself have railed against the current face of feminism, and while
I know the precarious position that puts me in, I also recognise what feminism
represented at its peak.
It wasn’t a way of thinking that insisted on the same
pedestaling as the opposition, acting as a mirror that only reflects prejudice
rather than a hammer that reshapes it, but a movement that wanted equality
among the sexes. The stereotypes that bind one half of the binary do the same
for the other, and until both sides are placed on even ground, both end up
suffering. It is because of this, among other things, that this film strikes a
serious chord with yours truly.
While the writing carries a lot of Sorkinisms as far as
bringing the headiness of legal jargon to a mainstream audience, scribe Daniel
Stiepleman shows a lot of crispness for what is his feature-length
screenwriting debut. All the major points are boiled down to their essentials
in a way that makes it all easier to digest, and the added touches in nearly
every scene result in either memorable quips, rousing emotional moments, or a
quality blend of the two.
Whether it’s highlighting how legal precedent works, like
with Hammer’s Martin explaining how taxes in Sweden resulted in a lower
marriage rate, or explaining why freedom of choice is more important than
whether an individual will choose not to, like the line from the trailer about
women not being able to work as miners, it makes for a breezy but learned
depiction of the American legal system, why it is the way it is and why it
would benefit from not staying that way.
But for all of its legal footwork or courtroom drama, the
main thing that makes this stick out is the intent behind Ginsberg’s decision
to take on what is ostensibly a simple tax case: Starting a snowball that would
lead to bigger chances for equality in future. Now, as much as her opposition
are rather cartoonish in their rebuttals (there’s only so many times I can hear
the phrase “the natural order of things” before I feel the need to gag with
every syllable), their main intent is something that persists to the current
day.
Sure, their slippery slope "this could ruin the American
family" catastrophizing is the stuff that even suicidal depressives would think
they’re overreacting to (that's the reaction I had, at least), but their perspective of one little change resulting
in the end of everything? That is the bulk of what I heard during the same-sex
marriage debate in this country, the hypothetical ramifications of which are
still being pushed by conservatives to this day.
And much like with that instance of wanting for more
equality, the stance made by Ginsberg’s opponents is both technically true (as
far as setting legal precedent, at least) and
quite disingenuous. It’s something that only further highlights why RBG’s
mission remains as crucial as it is: By standing up for someone who fell
through the cracks of the legal system’s approach to the sexes, she stands up
for everyone affected by it on both sides of the binary.
It’s a showing of
genuine, forward-thinking feminism that seems to have fallen by the wayside as
far as mainstream representation, considering how the far more sexist tinges of
the latest wave of feminist doctrine get a lot more lipservice nowadays. It’s
one of the main reasons why I still have a disdain for a large number of
so-called ‘chick flicks’, and it’s also why I have a lot of respect for this
film, its intent and the beautifully articulate way in which it presents that
intent.
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