Leftist lunacy literally sped up last month, when two biological males took first and second place in the girls’ 55-meter dash of Connecticut’s high school indoor track championship. That an actual girl runner who trained hard for this event consequently lost out on qualifying for the New England regionals is a small price to pay for the Wokening of America. But the irony hasn’t escaped us immutable traditionalists that progressives are now eating their own, such as tennis legend Martina Navratilova.
Navratilova came under heavy fire by gay activists for opposing the entry of “transgender women” in women’s sports. Arguably the greatest female tennis player of all time, a longtime gay rights champion, married to another woman, she got booted off the LGBT sports advocacy group, Athlete Alley, for her unpardonable transgression — speaking scientific truth. Removing the male organ will still leave a man stronger and faster than a woman. And adding an artificial one won’t help a woman lug an 80-pound battle pack through the desert. But in the woke match between feminist reality and LGBT fantasy, reality loses.
Some may wonder as to how even mediocre post-male athletes keep crushing top female athletes in every sport, when according to every new movie and TV show, a hundred-pound girl can lick one or more 200-pound men. Last Friday, I caught some of the Magnum P.I. reboot, with sidekick Higgins now a damsel, if hardly in distress. Played by actress Perdita Weeks, who looks like she could give Anne Hathaway dieting tips, she battles a buff professional assassin high up in a construction site. Down on the street, Magnum notices her peril, and races up the stairs to save her. He reaches Higgins just in time to see her dropkick the man off the unwalled floor to his doom. I thought, what is the point of watching Magnum not be a hero? And changed the channel. If I want to see fantastical women vanquishing men, I’ll watch Game of Thrones.
Yet Hollywood keeps shoving deliberately sexless action women down our throats, no matter how many of these movies bomb. Very few people went to see Gina Rodriguez as Miss Bala, Jennifer Lawrence as Red Sparrow, or Jennifer Garner as Peppermint. A great many did pay to see Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman. But then Wonder Woman is a famous sex symbol in a fetching costume, who actually falls in love with a male hero (Chris Pine). She’s something both boys and girls could enjoy, like her previous, hotter TV incarnation by the spectacular Lynda Carter. Things appear much grimmer for another big screen superheroine in this Friday’s release of Captain Marvel.
Disney and Marvel Comics had high expectations for the captain, although she’s a minor comic book character, unlike Wonder Woman. But this was before the actress playing her, Brie Larson, started talking feminist piffle. I say “actress” not “star”, because Captain Marvel would have been produced on the same schedule with any other female lead. Regardless, Larson only made it worse. First, she raised a pathetic outrage over an airport guard asking for her phone number. “I merely smiled at a TSA agent and he asked me for my phone number,” Larson tweeted. “To live life as a woman is to live life on the defensive.” Holy exaggeration, Batman! If Larson had real super powers, she might have zapped the poor devil. Later, unsatisfied with being merely obnoxious, she went full social justice diva while promoting Captain Marvel.
“It’s 2019, and what 2019 is about is intersectional feminism,” Larson said in an interview. “That’s part of what the meditation of this movie is. It’s female strength.” It’s also what drove a ridiculously low “want to see” score on the film website, Rotten Tomatoes. Afraid of Disney’s wrath, the site’s purveyors locked the function for Captain Marvel. For nothing will draw boys into a theater faster than intersectional feminism. Add the fact that Captain Marvel’s costume looks utterly unisexual, again unlike Wonder Woman’s, and men have even less inducement to go.
Hollywood used to promote a truth about real women that no amount of Orwellian brainwashing on gender fluidity, or wishful surgery, can change – their innate sensuality. It’s what artists have sought to capture since the Stone Age, like the smile on the Mona Lisa. And it’s why I believe Brie Larson, Jennifer Lawrence, Jessica Chastain, Anne Hathaway, Perdita Weeks, and their angry sisters will be forgotten in 10 years — Marilyn Monroe, Rita Hayworth, Lana Turner, Ava Gardner and other screen goddesses never. Esteemed feminist scholar Camille Paglia agrees. “There was a magic of sexual attraction in the movies that’s completely gone now,” she told a Lafayette University crowd.
Even unglamorous girls were once more believable on film, including athletic ones. Robert Towne’s Personal Best(1982) is not a great picture, but it is still the best depiction of female athletes ever made. It follows a potential champion runner, Chris (Mariel Hemingway), through all the blood, sweat and tears it takes to make the national track team, never losing sight of her femininity. The movie showcased true girl power. Sad to think that today, all of Chris’s prowess, dedication, and drive would be in vain, when any men’s team reject could “transgender” and easily beat her.
Notice to Readers: The American Spectator and Spectator World are marks used by independent publishing companies that are not affiliated in any way. If you are looking for The Spectator World please click on the following link: https://thespectator.com/world.