The Wife

The world's rather oddly constructed, some of its pretensions anyways, the idea that female writers can't sell their work for instance, which I imagine was much more prevalent 50 years ago, Foucauldian analysis pending.

The world certainly seems like a much more open place for men, and when you think of the thousands of psychological, financial, political, and ethical barriers preventing women from expressing themselves, the gross injustice of it all makes you wonder why people who are supposed to be fearless are so utterly afraid of a little femininity?

Women make good storytellers, are capable of doing anything men can do really, and cultural codes that prevent them from selling their work under their own name therefore don't make much sense, especially since they have so many compelling stories to share.

Longer explanation in a book some day.

I don't like everything I read or watch or listen to that's written by women, I don't like everything I read or watch or listen to that's written by men, I didn't realize you were supposed to prefer the one that matched your gender when I was really young, and was severely reprimanded, still am I suppose, but since I live in a theoretically free country I should be free to pick and choose who I like, even in my forties, as long as they aren't spreading hate intended to curtail freedoms, and I don't see it as a feminine and masculine artistic continuum, but rather one composed of stories I like and others which I don't.

I'm much more forgiving with films.

If I wrote about music or books I imagine people would criticize me for being too harsh instead of enjoying what I do.

In The Wife we find a literary married couple who's been given the Nobel Prize for literature even though only one of them is being recognized.

Wife Joan Castleman's (Glenn Close) painstaking imaginative endeavours are hailed for their genius, and husband Joe Castleman (Jonathan Pryce) is given all the credit.

He's a bit of a brute, living a life of freedom and ease that's absolutely dependent on his wife's devotion, and rather than reciprocating her heartfelt sacrifice he consumes countless luxuries and never stops womanizing.

The golden ticket.

You'd think that if you had the golden ticket you wouldn't openly mock its charitable foundations or colonize its endemic struggle.

You'd think you'd respect it at least, especially if its purchase had nothing to do with you.

Value it.

Not the case though in The Wife, as Joe recklessly gorges at the trough (things become more complicated as a mischievous biographer [Christian Slater as Nathaniel Bone] inquisitively stirs things up).

The film examines a fed up spouse's desire to be recognized for her brilliance in a patriarchal world prone to overlook essential feminine contributions.

It's quite direct for a movie focused on award winning literature, although the point it makes shines more brightly since it isn't buried beneath sundry literary filmic devices.

The unacknowledged heroine, the burly bumptious brute.

Like he had no leg to stand on so he went out and bought stilts.

He doesn't even consider sharing it.

After so so many years.