I've been seeing a lot of movies lately because school is not in session right now, and I have just a wee bit more time on my hands. One of the movies I saw recently was Up in the Air, and I found the depiction of women in the movie fascinating.
Normally, Hollywood makes young people—especially hot young people in their twenties—look like confident, perfect creatures. They are gorgeous but they are also successful and lucky in love. And as anyone who's been through their twenties knows, this isn't an accurate depiction of most people at that age. No, most twenty-somethings are still suffering from a bit of an adolescent hangover. Sure, they are more self-assured than they were as teenagers, but they're still a little bit lost, a little bit uncertain of who they are. And, if they're like most people, that often means bad choices—in terms of clothes, jobs, significant others, sex, drinking. The works.
Because of this, I found it incredibly refreshing to see one of the main characters in Up in the Air, a twenty-something Cornell grad named Natalie, depicted in this way rather than being portrayed as yet another perfect twenty-five-year-old who has everything she could possibly want (and everything I want too).
And what was even more refreshing was that instead of the twenty-something having it all, her older co-star, 36-year-old Vera Farmiga (pictured above), was depicted as the woman who had it all . . . a great job, a beautiful face, shiny hair, a fabulous wardrobe, and a rockin' bod. In fact, Farmiga's character looked so gorgeous that every time she met someone new—male or female—they would tell her how attractive she was. Even twenty-something Natalie told her she was beautiful within five minutes of meeting her, and she said it in a way that conveyed both awe and admiration. And this compliment nicely set up the next one when Natalee also tells Farmiga's character that she wants to be just like her when she grows up.
This was quite possibly my favorite moment in the film.
A skinny twenty-something young woman tells a thirty-something woman with hot-to-trot curves—a woman who I might add had clearly visible wrinkles—that she wanted to be just like her when she grew up? It's as if they lived in opposite land.
But they didn't. Instead, they lived in realistic land, where people—men and women alike—really do get better with age and don't have to be 110 pounds, twenty-years-old, and flawless to be stunningly beautiful.
No, Farmiga doesn't exactly fit the definition of curvy I use on this blog—though she's got wonderful curves we can all appreciate—but she does reinforce the main messages of this blog, and for that, I cannot thank her enough.