THE LONG KISS GOODNIGHT (Renny Harlin, 1996)

"Postfeminism is the "so now what" that comes after feminism. Postfeminism is a lack of interest in chanting the old slogans, waving the old banners, crabbing over the old injustices … If you want to see postfeminism, look at the movie Charlie's Angels. Chicks kicking ass in lipstick and short skirts, who think of bras as a cool way to make your boobs look good, not as the shackles of the patriarchy. Postfeminists want to move on from feminism—that's the simplest way I can define it."

          --from an interview with Lilly James, creator of the (now apparently defunct)             “Postfeminist Playground” website, www.pfplayground.com

Martha McCaughey points out in her book Real Knockouts: The Physical Feminism of Women’s Self Defense that violence in film has promise for gender politics because when we see violent women on screen, it forces a shift in our ideas of what women are capable of both in real life and onscreen, disrupting the gender ideology that makes men’s violence against women seem inevitable. Film audiences have seen this kind of violent woman, beginning at least with Linda Hamilton in Terminator 2. Her character is transformed from ordinary, nice young woman to a spectacle of muscles and focused intention. But as impressive as Hamilton’s fighting is, it is still Schwarzenegger who carries the weight of battle in Terminator.

In “Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Vampires, Postmodernity, and Postfeminism,” author Susan Owen calls Buffy a post-feminist narrative, partly because “a female is controlling the narrative and delivering the punches.” In Buffy's world, the women don't need men to rid the world of the bad guys; Buffy kicks butt all by herself. The male sphere of influence is limited to Giles' mentoring of Buffy. Renny Harlin’s The Long Kiss Goodnight takes female agency through violence a step further. The presumed ability of Charly (Geena Davis) to fight redefines heterosexual feminity. Her fight scenes are not coded as revenge against or for protection from a dominant male; after all, she learned to fight before being pursued. Like Buffy, Charly alone has the agency to deal with corrupt forces in the universe. This becomes especially clear after the death of Dr. Nathan Waldman (Brian Cox), her mentor. And Charly doesn’t fight like a man; she fights like a woman, using ice skates, kerosene in a baby doll, a candle in the window, a pie in a face, and other items from the domestic sphere in addition to conventional weapons.

In addition to the ability to fight without the male help, the way Kiss displays the female body marks it as post-feminist. Not a repeat of female as spectacle or female as victimized object, this film asserts that women's bodies are about more than display and passivity. While the meaning of muscular masculine bodies is still debated, mainstream cinema (such as Kiss) has presented a modified version of the action heroine. The post-feminist character of Samantha/Charly reinterprets the glamorous, overtly sexy, physically strong, though emotionally vulnerable action heroine. This is most apparent in the transformation scene as Samantha is disavowed and Charly becomes the new identity. Samantha is transformed from domestic goddess to the muscled action hero, leaving behind the trappings of conventional feminine beauty (long hair, red lipstick, flowery dresses) for those of transgressive femininty (short, ultra-blonde hair, short skirts, muscles exposed, gun in hand). Charly turns into a killing machine from this point on; her agency is reinforced as partner Mitch Henessey (Samuel L. Jackson), the down-on-his-luck gumshoe who usually does the ass-kicking in films, generally looks on ineffectually. She may have a glamorous body, but only she has control over it. It's a successful role-reversal, a feminist re-interpretation of the buddy movie. But like Buffy, Samantha ultimately chooses not to make the two roles mutually exclusive, and that is what makes her character post-feminist. After killing the bad guys, Samantha chooses to stay with her partner and child and refuses the president's offer of a lucrative position. Like Buffy, she longs for normalcy in the private sphere though she has obligations in the public sphere. The evils of patriarchy may force her into action, but only temporarily.

A final element of The Long Kiss Goodnight that marks it as post-feminist is its pro-family stance. Samantha/Charly opts in the end for family over career, although here she defines family in her own terms. Her fiancé is absent from the entire “Charly” plot and doesn’t re-emerge until Samantha has made her decision to abandon once and for all her life as an assassin. She affirms traditional feminine qualities (maternal nurturance) without affirming or essentializing gender difference. In Buffy, the heroine frequently laments the fact that because she has a responsibility to act, she cannot have a “normal” life; as Owen says, “The narrative opposes the costs of leadership and political potency, with intimacy, stable relationships, and material comfort." There may be a cost, but a post-feminist text redefines the binary or simplistic divisions between masculine/feminine spheres of influence. This is perhaps best understood by the epilogue, as Samantha is driving in a convertible with sunglasses on. This obvious reference to Thelma and Louise offers another choice for women: the problem of patriarchy does not have to be countered with suicide; instead women can be both transgressive and traditional at the same time.

In Renny Harlin’s 1996 film The Long Kiss Goodnight, Geena Davis’ character of Samantha Caine/Charly Baltimore stands out as a poster girl (or, should I say poster grrl) for the postfeminist woman. Again and again in the film, Samantha/Charly reiterates those characteristics inherent in this postmodern version of femininity including the appropriation of masculine body rhetorics and filmic narratives, as well as a connection to (and flaunting of?) consumer culture. At the same time, though, it is interesting to note Samantha’s/Charly’s (postfeminist) similarities to another postfeminist character who first appeared in 1996: Laura Croft, from the popular video game Tomb Raider.

Visually, both Samantha/Charly and Laura Croft establish themselves as postfeminist heroes by appropriating features of the action adventure genre. They both adopt clothing and weaponry (guns, knives, etc.) traditionally used by masculine action adventure characters, and yet they make it their (feminized/feminist) own. Of particular note is their appropriation of the “wifebeater” shirt—an article of clothing whose nickname itself implies masculine, patriarchal hegemony. Yet both Samantha/Charly and Laura Croft adopt this same uniform while they are “kicking butt,” transferring its connotations of strength to their own characters. At the same time, they wear it tightly and provocatively, thus transforming it into a source of erotic “feminine” power through which they can both entice and distract male opponents.

The similarities between Samantha/Charly and Laura Croft move beyond the visual and narrative, however, for both characters and their actions are linked indelibly to consumer culture. Although both Samantha/Charly and Laura Croft inevitably “save the day” by the end of their respective media (film for the former, and both video games and film for the latter), both establish the pursuit of wealth and money as important within their narratives. Samantha/Charly ends up “discovering” the millions she has secreted away, just as Laura Croft constantly “raids tombs” for lost treasure and riches. A more interesting postfeminist consumerist connection, however, is their similar links to concepts of the family and being “ladies” or “ladylike.” Women in this postfeminist consumer culture illustrate the necessity of having/using to establish themselves as both feminine/familial and as fighters. These are women who “look good” as women even as they act as superheroes. This connection is obvious in the character of “Lady” Laura Croft—her title implies wealth and femininity, a role she must continue to play well even as she attempts to connect with her father through her adoption of his masculine career of “tomb raider.” Samantha’s/Charly’s character runs along a similar vein. Even as she is a CIA-trained assassin, she cannot forgo her connections to her daughter and her fiancée; although she tries to convince herself to do so, by the end of the film she returns to her more traditionally feminine, “ladylike” role of “wife,” though with the postfeminist twist of wife-who-kicks-butt. Both she and Laura Croft are postfeminist women who can (and choose to) do it all.

The opening credits of Renny Harlin’s The Long Kiss Goodnight (1996) render the protagonist’s double identity--tough government spy versus innocent mother--that Samantha/Charly reconciles at the end of the film. Now that the feminists won the fight for equality, post-feminists do not want to remain men haters, childless, or unfeminine. Post-feminism challenges binary oppositions such as man versus woman and explores new subject positions for women outside of the angel versus demon dichotomy; it emphasizes mutual understanding between sexes and acceptance of differences. While feminism “spoiled women’s right to be sexually attractive, to flirt, to enjoy domestic bliss; it damaged the family” (The Routledge Companion to Postmodernism 337). Post-feminism creates a backlash and “defends men against blame for the oppression of women and … [shows that] women’s liberation is made to appear tyrannical and unrepresentative of the demands of women” (337). Samantha/Charly emphasizes three components of post-feminism: domesticity, physical beauty, and an open mind toward gender and race, components that underscore the potency of womanhood and not its vulnerabilities. Although these components stress the weaknesses of women according to Second Wave feminists, they become means for expressing women’s potency.

Samantha evolves from a consummate housewife into Charly, a woman who is disconnected from and discontent with any kind of domestic engagements. Whereas Samantha represents an anti-feminist, who had not had much contact with Second Wave feminism (we see her baking cakes and cooking passionately), Charly is the Second Wave feminist who revolts against domesticity. Charly drinks, smokes, and complains about Samantha’s sedentary butt. At the end of the film, Samantha embodies a new type of post-feminist womanhood: domestic and tough at the same time. At the bucolic picnic with Hall and Caitlin, Samantha eats and drinks wine, but kills the annoying cricket by throwing the knife at it with dexterity so that she can enjoy her dinner; in other words, her toughness aids her domesticity. At the same time, the cars she drives are symptomatic of Samantha’s transformation from submissive domestic to tough domestic. When she gives Earl a ride from the Christmas party, she drives a Volvo, a safe car suitable for a domestic schoolteacher; she will eventually drive a powerful convertible, yet remain the same domestic schoolteacher.

Along with domesticity, post-feminists reclaim physical beauty as a powerful force. As an amnesic schoolteacher, Samantha is feminine and beautiful, yet regarded as a sexual object; although she covers her body with long skirts, overalls, and loose sweaters, she attracts the young men who admire her Santa costume, and Earl, who makes sick jokes about her sex life. Charly, on the other hand, goes to war against femininity and adopts a more masculine look. She dyes her hair, wears makeup, tight pants, and leather jackets. Nevertheless, the two last scenes show Samantha as sexy, powerful, and unafraid to expose her body. When she drives her convertible, she wears a short, sleeveless dress, a scarf, and sunglasses; the suitcase with money and guns next to her symbolizes her new power and financial stability. At the picnic, Samantha wears a white dress that shows her legs.

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Last update: 8/27/2004