By Ray Pride

Jason Bailey

“Bigelow has spent much of her career making movies about men, about their interactions, transactions, and bravado, and it’s hard to think of another director who could better capture the tension of escalating, toxic masculinity. Considering her preoccupations and Boal’s attention to historical detail, it’s dispiriting that a strain of criticism has appeared insisting that, as a white woman, it wasn’t Bigelow’s place to direct this film, or that it was made “by white creatives who do not understand the weight of the images they hone in on with an unflinching gaze.” Putting aside the troubling bad faith assumed by such a charge, it’s worth wrestling with whether white filmmakers are to tell stories rooted in the history and struggles of people of color. There should be more African-American filmmakers with resources to tell stories like these; inclusion behind the camera should be the ultimate goal. But does that mean there’s a moratorium on those stories in the meantime? Would it be better for this tragedy to go untold than for it to be dramatized by a gifted director? Is she permitted only to tell stories about white people – and thus, put even more of them into a cultural marketplace that’s already saturated?  That’s everyone’s own call to make. If Detroit had been made by a person of color, it might have been a better film; it might not’ve. It would’ve certainly been a different film.”
~ Jason Bailey

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“Would I like to see Wormwood in a theater on a big screen? You betcha. I’d be disingenuous to argue otherwise. But we’re all part of, like it or not, an industry, and what Netflix offers is an opportunity to do different kinds of films in different ways. Maybe part of what is being sacrificed is that they no longer go into theaters. If the choice is between not doing it at all and having it not go to theaters, it’s an easy choice to make.”
~ Errol Morris

“As these stories continue to break, in the weeks since women have said they were harassed and abused by Harvey Weinstein, which was not the birth of a movement but an easy and highly visible shorthand for decades of organizing against sexual harassment that preceded this moment, I hope to gain back my time, my work. Lately, though, I have noticed a drift in the discourse from violated rights to violated feelings: the swelled number of reporters on the beat, the burden on each woman’s story to concern a man “important” enough to report on, the detailed accounting of hotel robes and incriminating texts along with a careful description of what was grabbed, who exposed what, and how many times. What I remember most, from “my story” is how small the sex talk felt, almost dull. I did not feel hurt. I had no pain to confess in public. As more stories come out, I like to think that we would also believe a woman who said, for example, that the sight of the penis of the man who promised her work did not wound her, and that the loss she felt was not some loss of herself but of her time, energy, power.”
~ “The Unsexy Truth About Harassment,” by Melissa Gira Grant