This translates to 4.8 males working behind-the-scenes to every one female.įrom 2006 to 2009, not one female character was depicted in G-rated family films in the field of medical science, as a business leader, in law, or politics. Across 1,565 content creators, only 7% of directors, 13% of writers, and 20% of producers are female. Generally unrealistic figures are more likely to be seen on females than males.įemales are also underrepresented behind the camera. Further, females are nearly twice as likely as males to be shown with a diminutive waistline. Even more staggering is the fact that this ratio, as seen in family films, is the same as it was in 1946.įemales are almost four times as likely as males to be shown in sexy attire. In contrast, females comprise just over 50% of the population in the United States. Males outnumber females 3 to 1 in family films.

Geena Davis’s organization, See Jane, crunches the numbers, with some stark conclusions: From space operas to sitcoms, there’s a huge gap between the reality of women working and functioning within society and the way they are represented on screen. Although the Star Wars universe wised up and incorporated a few more female characters (especially in The Clone Wars), movie-going these days still requires acceptance that the Sausage Fest is king. We felt devalued, surplus to requirements, condemned to the cheap seats as perpetual spectators at the Sausage Fest.įast forward three decades, and Hollywood still suffers from a gender divide worse than any school playground. We knew we couldn’t grow up to be Leia (“I haven’t got long brown hair! I’m not pretty enough!”), and there weren't any other options. “Are you crazy? There’s no way Greedo can be a girl!” We couldn’t really argue, because that’s how it was in the movies: no girls (other than a solitary metal-bikini-clad princess) allowed.īecause it was set in the future, the whole Star Wars experience felt particularly humiliating. No matter how much we pleaded for compromise, the boys refused to bend the rules, even on minor, unpopular characters. If we didn’t take that single, narrow, route into the action (“Leia has to wait over there till Luke and R2 rescue her”), we were out of the game. Unlike the boys who could try on different characters, goodies and baddies, for size, we were excluded from the fun of the playground narrative simply because of our gender. “She hasn’t got long brown hair! She isn’t pretty enough!” Those of us who didn’t conform to Lei-expectations were forced to sit out the fun on the sidelines, condemned to perpetual starwallflower-dom. If the boys were feeling particularly mean, they’d enforce strict limits on the potential Leia pool.

We girls had to draw straws to see which one of us could be Leia. “I’ll be Han!” “I’ll be Chewie!” “I’ll be Obi-Wan!” “I’ll be Darth Vader!” “I’ll be Boba Fett!” “I’ll be Yoda!” “I’ll be Lando!” They could see themselves as any one of those guys, and could revel in imagining themselves as an integral part of the story, shaping events in ways of their choosing. As the boys galloped onto the playground eager to re-enact the destruction of the Death Star or the defeat of the Imperial forces on Endor, they had a plethora of roles to pick from, male characters of varying ages, colors and body types. Back in the day, the original Star Wars movies were a big hit at my primary school, except with the girls at recess.

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