Where to begin with Cloud Atlas, the ambitious new film spanning at least five centuries? A movie so sprawling it took three directors to tackle it? One in which actors portray ages, races, and even genders that are not their own? An adaptation of David Mitchell’s acclaimed novel that many assumed was unfilmable?
Where, oh where, to begin?
(Films discussed in this post: I Don’t Know How She Does It, The Arbor, Colombiana, The Iron Lady.)
In 2011, there were plenty of movies about scheming, boozing bad girls like the out-of-control flock of Bridesmaids or the self-destructive prom queen in Young Adult (see my post on “The Chicks”). Fun, right?
To counterbalance this, though, we also need that are properly progressive in feminist terms — the medicine to Bridesmaids & co’s spoonful of sugar. Which I’m all for, in theory.
In practice, however, 2011’s lineup of silver screen glass ceiling-breakers left something to be desired.