Hollywood prefers blondes (as index patients) | Little White Lies

Women In Film

Hol­ly­wood prefers blondes (as index patients)

05 May 2020

Close-up of a woman with blonde, wavy hair and a serious expression. Her eyes are piercing and her lips are slightly parted.
Close-up of a woman with blonde, wavy hair and a serious expression. Her eyes are piercing and her lips are slightly parted.
Attrac­tive women of ques­tion­able virtue have long been a scape­goat for society’s lit­er­al ills.

The Gold­en Age of Hol­ly­wood coin­cid­ed with the Great Depres­sion and reached its zenith in 1939. Cash-strapped movie­go­ers bud­get­ed for a week­ly respite, and Hol­ly­wood respond­ed by churn­ing out spec­ta­cles with the dis­ci­pline of a career cho­rus-line girl. That hard times engen­der escapist fare is Cin­e­ma Stud­ies 101. Why then, as the Unit­ed States was first begin­ning to feel the pangs of Coro­n­avirus in March, did Con­ta­gion shoot to the top of stream­ing charts?

Per­haps our def­i­n­i­tion of escapism” in film has been too nar­row. By design, all movies are escapist. Unlike cur­rent events, we can always escape them by turn­ing them off. Released in the after­math of SARS and the swine flu pan­dem­ic, Steven Soderbergh’s 2011 thriller takes a bleak real­i­ty and reimag­ines it to fit a con­ven­tion­al nar­ra­tive with a begin­ning, mid­dle, and (sat­is­fy­ing) end. This is the pur­pose of all fic­tion, not just movies: In Gio­van­ni Boccaccio’s Decameron’, bawdy sto­ries, both comedic and trag­ic, are a salve dur­ing the Black Death.

Cin­e­ma was still in its infan­cy in the after­math of the last glob­al health cri­sis of a sim­i­lar scale to COVID-19. We don’t have a defin­i­tive, filmic take on a pan­dem­ic that actu­al­ly tran­spired. Instead, we have Con­ta­gion and inspired-by” depic­tions of oth­er, less wide­spread dis­eases. One salient exam­ple of the lat­ter type is The Killer That Stalked New York, a 1950 B‑movie noir inspired by the incred­i­ble-but-true sto­ry of a 1947 out­break of small­pox in New York City.

Two middle-aged women, one with curly blonde hair and the other wearing a polka dot blouse, standing in front of a patterned wallpaper.

Here, patient zero is a jew­el smug­gler who turns out to be car­ry­ing more than dia­monds when she arrives home from Cuba. A beau­ti­ful blonde of dubi­ous virtue – sound famil­iar? One of the few things that we learn about Gwyneth Paltrow’s char­ac­ter in Con­ta­gion (aside from the fact that she’s recent­ly been in Hong Kong on a busi­ness trip) is that she cheats on her husband.

The sim­i­lar­i­ties between The Killer That Stalked New York’s Sheila Ben­nett (Eve­lyn Keyes) and Paltrow’s Beth are exten­sive. In appear­ance, both women are rep­re­sen­ta­tive of the fem­i­nine ide­al of their respec­tive eras: Sheila, a done-up Mar­i­lyn Mon­roe looka­like; Beth, a nat­ur­al beau­ty with patri­cian bone struc­ture. Though they have cho­sen wild­ly dif­fer­ent liveli­hoods, both are bread­win­ners. Most impor­tant­ly, both are por­trayed as vil­lain­ous: Sheila is a bonafide crim­i­nal while Beth is an adul­ter­er with­out qualms. Their addi­tion­al shared crime” of spread­ing a dead­ly dis­ease may be blame­less, but it’s not vic­tim­less. The films por­tray their plight as karmic.

While Con­ta­gion is a work of fic­tion, Killer is not. In depict­ing the city’s response to the small­pox scare of 1947, it doesn’t stray far from his­tor­i­cal fact. Why would it? The true sto­ry of the New York small­pox scare writes itself as a Hol­ly­wood script. The quick and coop­er­a­tive response of gov­ern­ment, busi­ness, and pri­vate cit­i­zens cul­mi­nat­ed in the mass vac­ci­na­tion of six mil­lion peo­ple over the course of just three weeks – the largest mobil­i­sa­tion of its kind in US history.

The current climate in the US exposes the ways in which women are actually punished during public health crises.

The Killer That Stalked New York’s embell­ish­ments are sig­nif­i­cant because they rep­re­sent Hollywood’s cor­rec­tive” impulse in rewrit­ing his­to­ry. In real­i­ty, the first US case in 1947’s out­break was a mid­dle-aged rug mer­chant from Maine who had recent­ly vaca­tioned in Mex­i­co with his wife.

An index patient’s tragedy is unre­lent­ing. In addi­tion to deal­ing with ill­ness and the guilt of hav­ing like­ly infect­ed oth­ers in their orbit, they become the unfor­tu­nate face of an ill­ness. Wide­spread mis­for­tune is traced back to them as a mat­ter of pro­to­col, and the instinct to hold the per­son at the end of the line account­able is strong. The Killer That Stalked New York relieves view­ers of any guilt they may feel in hat­ing Sheila by cast­ing her as a bonafide criminal.

Over 60 years lat­er, Soder­bergh went a step fur­ther in cast­ing Pal­trow as the cause of the world’s suf­fer­ing. By 2011, she was already a wide­ly ridiculed celebri­ty fig­ure. When the film’s trail­er was released, Gawk­er ran it under the glee­ful head­line Watch Gwyneth Pal­trow Get Sick and Die.’

These cre­ative lib­er­ties may seem harm­less; misog­y­ny in movies is noth­ing new. But the cur­rent cli­mate in the US affords new insights and expos­es the ways in which women are actu­al­ly pun­ished dur­ing pub­lic health crises. Com­pris­ing the major­i­ty of the essen­tial” work­force, women are dis­pro­por­tion­ate­ly exposed to the virus. There’s been a well-doc­u­ment­ed rise in domes­tic abuse cas­es. Con­ser­v­a­tive gov­er­nors have pushed to sus­pend repro­duc­tive rights in shut­down orders.

Men are more like­ly to die of Coro­n­avirus, but women are poised to bear the brunt of all that suf­fer­ing. Con­ser­v­a­tive colum­nist Andrew Sul­li­van gave voice to the irra­tional misog­y­ny that’s arisen in the wake of Coro­n­avirus. Not­ing the dis­crep­an­cy in fatal­i­ty rates between men and women, he wrote: This is not about blame even though that is the temptation.”

Hol­ly­wood has repeat­ed­ly shown its pref­er­ence for cast­ing a cer­tain type of woman as a rep­re­sen­ta­tive fig­ure of society’s ills (see also: David Cronenberg’s Rabid, star­ring Mar­i­lyn Cham­bers as patient zero). Unfor­tu­nate­ly, it’s not just the men writ­ing scripts who hold these prej­u­dices – it’s also the ones writ­ing laws.

You might like