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Women in Film

What do Dame May Whitty and Marie Dressler have in common? To credit a veteran Boston University researcher, these two movie stars of past decades stand out because they played roles that showed older women as different from the prevailing Hollywood stereotypes.

Starring in Alfred Hitchcock’s thriller “The Lady Vanishes,” Dame May Whitty fools viewers and her enemies alike. As researcher Elizabeth Markson says, “She first looks like the innocuous music teacher but then turns out to be the arch-spy who gets away from people who are at least symbolically the Nazis.”

Marie Dressler, acting in the 1930 film “Min and Bill” with Wallace Beery, became a star despite weighing over 200 pounds and looking homely.

These are just two of the almost 250 films chosen at random from more than 3,000 made during the period 1929 to 1995 that Professor Markson has reviewed. She focused on those actors and actresses who were at least 60 years old who had been nominated for Oscars at least once in their careers.

What surprised this researcher was “the persistence of gender stereotyping through so many decades of filmmaking.” Referring to her previous study, Markson says, “I had originally predicted that we would see a lot of changes.” Unfortunately, in her view, these changes have simply not happened.

As she views the films, Markson finds that “older women become either invisible or we project our fears of aging on women rather than men whom we continue to portray as instrumental and powerful to the very end.”

Women’s place in American society has surely changed in recent decades but not, it seems, Hollywood’s vision of that place. “We still see older women as spinsters, wives, mothers,” Markson points out. She observes that this is not the case with men: “How few older men in films are married or you can’t tell if they are married or not!”

Her review of films also reveals that “family relationships are totally neglected.” This strikes her as particularly strange because research has shown that such relationships become more important as we get older, especially for men.

Markson does not expect the situation to become better any time soon. She admits that Hollywood reflects American attitude, so that you might think that change would happen. But, as she points out, Hollywood shapes our attitudes as well; the movie industry seems to have a vested interest in presenting women as young, thin, and conventionally beautiful.

This process starts with the scripts. Hollywood studios are reported to have a “gray list,” whereby screenwriters over age 35 do not get hired. “Overage”actresses such as Meryl Streep and Faye Dunaway find themselves offered few roles.

Markson does not have much confidence that women themselves will become aware of the situation and pressure Hollywood for change. She tells of showing films to women graduate students and having them not notice the stereotypes until their attention is drawn toward them. And there seems to be no group of older people that currently scans Hollywood films critically, the way the Gray Panthers once did for American advertising.

If, as Markson judges, “some of the best portrayals of women characters were in the 1930s,” that is getting to be long ago. You might expect by now  that American films might have caught up with the creativity shown by many older women.

Markson believes that the stakes are higher than one might think. That’s because demographic changes in the future will multiply the number of older women in American society. If films do not present us with better images of this part of the population, the temptation will become greater to regard old women as nuisances rather than people deserving of dignified care when needed.

But older women as they really are, in their great variety and magnificent diversity, are appropriate subjects for the creative arts such as film. To ignore who they are and what they are doing is to miss much of the American story.

All of us ordinary Americans know family members, friends, and neighbors who are doing interesting projects in retirement. Many of them are finding their later years, in the words of another Hollywood classic, “the best years of our lives.” And yet we see precious little evidence of this in the movie theaters.

Outside the scope of the research project discussed here, a new independent film titled “Innocence” does give a convincing portrayal of people in later life who fall in love and carry on a passionate illicit affair. They had known one another when young and, only after 50 years’ absence, rediscover each other.

And a 1990 Canadian film, “Strangers in Good Company,” portrays a group of older women much the way real people are, skillfully revealing their inner life,

Maybe it’s time for a new burst of cinematic creativity in Hollywood that will show older women and men, not in stereotype, but as we have become in reality.

Richard Griffin

HOB

My friend’s body lay on a simple bed, with two chairs beside it for visitors. His body was dressed in a brown robe given him, years ago in France, by the Vietnamese Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh when this monastic leader ordained him an elder spiritual teacher.

Eyes closed, mouth slightly ajar, grayish-white beard and hair abundant, hands folded, my friend was there in the living room of his home where he and other members of our prayer group had gathered so many times for meditation. He faced out toward the back yard and garden which had formed the beautiful backdrop to our sessions together. Now Hob, as we called him, had left us behind, dying peacefully in his own home at age 78 as Thanksgiving Day began.  

I came and sat beside the bed for a few minutes of silent prayer, gazing at Hob’s body and the quiet scene. On a small stand behind his head was a photo of the ordination ceremony; flowers graced the same stand, as did a statue of the Buddha and incense. Often in our prayer group we had employed similar props for their part in creating an atmosphere of peace.

Hob was among the most peaceful men I have ever known. He brought to daily life an inner spirit that made him rewarding to be with. Even when he was troubled by the effects of Alzheimer’s disease, Hob inspired in his friends a awareness of our depths.

Fortunately, he died early enough in the progress of this disease to have escaped its worst effects. When it damaged his capacity for short-term memory, he relied on family and friends to supplement his efforts to remember. “She is my memory,” he used to say, turning toward his beloved wife of many years.

Hob was the first person who ever indicated to me himself that he had Alzheimer’s. Years ago, he approached me and asked if I could recommend a support group for a person with this disease. I could and did, as I suddenly became aware that he was asking for himself.

Characteristic of this man’s spirituality was its breadth and openness to all traditions. Just as he looked to Thich Nhat Hanh for guidance, he also found great  inspiration in a Catholic monk living in India. Father Bede Griffiths, an English Benedictine, had established an ashram in his adopted country and lived there like a Hindu holy man.

Hob visited him in India several times, spent many days with him, and learned much for his spiritual life. His interest in spirituality, however, could never be satisfied with just one teacher. He also had an audience with the Dalai Lama and, read widely in the doctrine of other traditions, and experimented with many different forms of prayer.

Seeing Hob’s body stirred in me thoughts too deep for adequate expression. I thought of the verses from Psalm 104: “When you take away their breath, they die and return to their dust.” But as a person with hope I also focused on the following verse: “When you send forth your spirit, they are created and you renew the face of the ground.”

Lines from Shakespeare also came to mind. Hamlet speaks of death as “the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns.” I think of Hob’s departure as a journey and believe it a trip toward a fuller life. But that is an area filled with mystery, that many spiritual people are content simply to contemplate with wonder.

Without the power to express it so profoundly, I have never been able since my teenage years to contemplate death without awe. Nor have I ever been able to think that death is the end of our existence. To me, it has always seemed that there is no way in which the richness of a human being could be ultimately lost.

That is my instinct, confirmed by faith. Surely Hob will also live on, not merely in the hearts of his wife and other family members; we too, his friends, will continue to cherish him. We will remember the graceful ways by which he shared his life with us and especially the courage he showed when faced with a terrible disease and in his ultimate decline.

How can we forget his gentle presence and the subtle power of his life lived in the search for light, for meaning, for God?

Richard Griffin

Bill Clinton in Retirement

You know yourself well on the way to becoming old when you discover that a new American president was born after you were. That’s what happened to me when Bill Clinton was inaugurated in 1993. We celebrate birthdays on the same date, August 19th, but he was born in 1946, exactly eighteen years after me.

Seeing Bill Clinton last week and hearing him deliver a speech at Harvard before a wildly enthusiastic crowd of students and some of their elders, I felt a strong sense once more of his talents. He is indeed the man who brought rare intellect and vision to the White House and, at times, gave promise of a greatness one can still see in him now.

Unfortunately, as all the world knows, this promise was dashed by at least one action of monumental stupidity that brought shame to him and harm to the whole nation. Even though, at this remove in time, the media and congressional responses to this scandal seem like a foolish waste of time and national resources, Clinton’s actions damaged the common good, lost opportunities for moving important projects ahead, and possibly blew the next election to the Republican Party.

This still-young retiree looked to be on the upswing last week. He was clearly energized by the cheers of the crowd which he did not need his hearing aid to hear. Charming, ebullient, and articulate, he spoke like an elder statesman. Only once, incidentally, did he mention his successor and that in a respectful manner.

Choosing as his theme “The Road Ahead for America,” the former president presented a forecast of the future and an agenda for his fellow citizens, especially the young.

“We are engaged in a struggle for the soul of this new century,” Bill Clinton announced. In this struggle he predicted that terrorism would be overcome. It has a long history, he said, but one marked by defeat rather than victory. “It cannot win unless we become unwitting accomplices,” he stated.

He foresees us getting better at defending ourselves against attack. Two specific improvements we need to make promptly: strengthening our capacity to chase money and improving our “woefully inadequate” computer tracking capacity.

As always happens when new offensive weapons first appear, they score initial successes but soon defenses catch up with them. In a minimalist prediction that in itself might provide precious little cheer, Clinton looked into the future and said that the twenty-first century will not claim as many victims as the last one.

The former president also outlined the positive and negative forces at work in the world today. Among the positives he listed the global economy, the technology revolution, the advance of the biological sciences, and the explosion of democracy around the world. In the negative column, he mentioned global warming and the worldwide health crisis, especially the spread of AIDS.

As what he called the central irony of our time Clinton identified “the fear, hatred, and demonization of those different from us.” For us to deal successfully with this problem we will have to make the interdependence of the world bring us good not evil.

The problems of the Muslim world drew his special attention. It would help those within that world who are fighting for greater openness if we make them better informed about America. “We’ve got to get our story out,” he urged. Few Muslims realize how the United States has gone to the aid of Muslim populations in Kosovo and elsewhere. Most people do not know how many Muslims died in the World Trade Center attacks.

For Clinton, the heart of the matter is this choice: “Which do you believe is more important, our interesting differences or our common humanity?”

He ended his speech on an ascending pitch: “We can never claim for ourselves what we deny for others. We live in a world without walls. We must defeat those who want to tear it down. We must make the world a home for all its children.”

This idealism commends Bill Clinton as a leader who in retirement has the opportunity to continue leading. It will obviously be in a different mode from his White House days but, as Jimmy Carter has shown, he will have advantages not available to him when president.

Now he can be free of the constraints imposed by politics, at least in large part. He can also feel less bound by the need to compromise the idealism that he seemed often to sacrifice in his days on Pennsylvania Avenue. At this time of crisis he can speak out, when appropriate, in defense of individual rights that now seem in peril.

As one of the nation’s youngest former presidents in history, Clinton can avail himself of his good health and youthful vigor to continue serving the nation as inspirer and even, despite the irony, as moral guide.

Richard Griffin

Thanksgiving in a Time of Fear

At a national conference in which I took part last week in Chicago, two of my colleagues, professionals in the field of aging, failed to arrive. They had registered and planned to make presentations but, according to report, decided not to risk air travel. Presumably the crash of the airbus in Queens two weeks ago had stirred in them enough fear of flying to make them cancel their travel plans.

I report this news, not in any spirit of superiority or blame, but rather because the feelings of these two people are so widely shared. My own emotions were upset by the latest airline disaster and I felt tempted to stay in the safety of my home rather than trust to what felt like unfriendly skies.

In this Thanksgiving season, perhaps fear itself is our greatest spiritual enemy. If this sentiment echoes the words spoken by Franklin D. Roosevelt in the depth of the Depression, then it shows how important his warning was then and remains now.

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” said the president with awareness of how debilitating that fear could be to a whole nation. For the individual also, fear can paralyze the will to act and damage one’s psyche.

Spiritual tradition teaches that fear wars against the soul. It is best resisted by cultivating love. “Perfect love casts out fear,” writes John the Evangelist, giving classical expression to this Christian doctrine. Part of loving God is trusting that we will find ultimate shelter in divine protection.

The love that casts out fear finds confirmation in all the gifts for which we give thanks each Thanksgiving. The crisis atmosphere of this tragic autumn makes recognition of these gifts all the more important. As a friend who is a religious sister writes in an email: “I know we appreciate this family time more than ever in these post 9/11 days.”

I feel blessed in having two Thanksgiving celebrations, one in the midst of my family, the other based in my neighborhood. In both of them, I feel strongly motivated to recognize the gifts we have received and for giving thanks for them.

When my family members gather, we will recognize the long life given to some of us, the good health most of us have enjoyed, and, especially, the warm personal relationships among us all. I count it perhaps the greatest blessing that we all are on the best of terms with one another and enjoy each other’s company.

We have not escaped sorrowful events. Our nephew Gregory died some two years ago in an accident that still saddens us all. Only the memory of his life and the gifts that he brought to us by his presence for nineteen years bring us consolation. Holding our Thanksgiving dinner in his New Hampshire home, we will be moved to give thanks for that time when he lived among us and to feel intense gratitude for Greg’s personality.

We remember others who helped build our family: the parents and grandparents, the aunts and uncles and cousins of us who are now ourselves adults in our middle and later years. It has become a joyful ritual to recall their lives with all the gifts of personality they brought to our clan.

When members of our urban neighborhood assemble to share a turkey dinner at the local public school, relationships of a different kind will move us to celebration. Here we do not have the same intimacy as members of the same family but we do take pleasure in one another’s company. Just as each family group or individual brings food, or prepares turkeys provided by our neighborhood association, we recognize the share that each person makes to our civic community.

Here we find reason to be thankful for our city, for our nation, for the blessings that we enjoy as Americans together. In this gathering, we too will be minus one. A local resident named John was a passenger on the first of the planes to crash into one of the World Trade Center towers.

I like to think that these two gatherings, marked by familial and, to some degree, community love, will help cast out the fear so widespread at this time in history. To the extent that we care about one another, to that extent we will strike a blow against the fear that can damage the soul.

Richard Griffin

LBJ on Tape

Were you eighty years old in 1850, you could not have looked back into history and heard the voice of Thomas Jefferson. Had you been age ninety in 1780, you could never have seen the gestures of the Puritan divine Cotton Mather as he preached a fiery sermon in a Boston church.

One of the many ways in which being old is different now from what it was until the twentieth century is how historical figures of our lifetime can be made present to us.

This is one of my reflections this week on hearing the voice of Lyndon Johnson recorded on secret tapes that he kept during his years in the White House. The contents of these tapes also stirred in me a range of emotions ranging from  admiration to indignation, with many stops in between.

Texts from the tapes have been newly published by presidential historian Michael Beschloss in a book entitled “Reaching for Glory.” Appearing two weeks ago on the National Public Radio program “Fresh Air” hosted by Terry Gross, Beschloss provided background for each excerpt before playing it.

The most shocking single item that emerges from LBJ’s private conversations is an admission about the Vietnam War. Early in 1965, speaking of the opposing forces, Johnson tells his defense secretary Robert McNamara, “I don’t believe they’re ever going to quit. I don’t see any hope of a victory.”

To hear the president concede that the United States military could not win the war still, thirty-six years later, comes as a shock. As Beschloss says, “A president should never send Americans into harm’s way with no chance of winning.”

This admission of Johnson also puts into painful context the speeches he continued to give about that war. In short, he lied to the American public, over and over. Privately, he agreed with much of what the anti-war demonstrators were saying, though he dismissed them as tools of the Communists. But publicly he continued to insist that, with the deployment of greater military resources, the United States would prevail.

Why did Lyndon Johnson not edit out of the tapes statements that would reflect badly on him in the eyes of history? Beschloss believes that he probably intended to; but, when he retired to his ranch in Texas, the last thing he wanted to do was to review material on Vietnam that had caused him so much grief and driven him from the presidency.

The tapes also reveal Johnson as a man obsessed with people he saw as his domestic enemies. Beschloss labels him “the ultimate control freak.” Even after he had scored an unprecedentedly large electoral victory over Goldwater in 1964, LBJ fretted about his opponents. He badmouthed the press for portraying the vote as anti-Goldwater rather then pro-Johnson, and himself as the lesser of two evils. “They want to make a Harding of us,” groused Johnson. He also obsessed about Bobby Kennedy whom he foresaw as his electoral challenger.

The tapes also contain a conversation between LBJ and J. Edgar Hoover about homosexuals in government. It came in the wake of a scandal surrounding Walter Jenkins, one of Johnson’s closest aides. The conversation takes on added interest in the light of later speculation about Hoover’s own sexuality. Beschloss’s comments on this exchange gives reason to welcome the change of attitudes that has taken place since then. “How far we have come,” says the historian, remarking that gay people can now be appointed to governmental positions almost routinely.

Despite all that I have learned about human nature over the course of a long lifetime, it still comes as a shock to hear evidence of how petty a man could be while ensconced at the top of the American power structure. Johnson harbored within himself a sensitivity to personal slights that seems totally incompatible with the call to serve the needs of some two hundred and fifty million of his fellow citizens.

And, of course, he served those needs extraordinarily well in certain areas. Almost surely he will go down in history as the greatest champion of civil rights. One of the tapes records a conversation he had with the then segregationist governor, George Wallace. It features a delicate byplay between the two, with Wallace trying to get Johnson to call out his federal troops while Johnson urges him to rely on the Alabama national guard.

Beschloss calls himself fortunate to have this tape of “one of the great moments in history,” and celebrates Johnson’s caring more about civil rights and poverty than anything else.

The earliest event in history that I have watched on videotape is the funeral of Queen Victoria in 1901. To see various royals from Britain and other countries as they solemnly parade by on horseback and in their carriages still stirs my imagination. The history that we have lived through since then is now so well documented that we have abundant material for our reveries and our reflections about the past.

Richard Griffin

Artists Respond to September Eleventh

Assemble a group of distinguished American artists, most of them based in New York City, and ask them to reflect on the disaster of September eleventh. That is what Harvard University did last week with results that ranged from the insightful all the way down to the banal.

The session went to prove that artists, like the rest of us, find it difficult to understand the spiritual meaning of the terrorist attack. They may be excellent in their own specialty but laying hold of wisdom is hard for them, too.

Playwright John Guare found the most important lesson was to continue his work. “All we can do,” he said, “is to keep doing what we are doing.” So Guare returned to completing a play that he had left unfinished, but now has readied for an opening in the spring. “The fact that I was writing I found sacred.”

Novelist and short-story writer Jamaica Kincaid, born in the island nation of Antigua but now an American citizen, asked herself if she should renounce that citizenship. This was her reaction to the United States’ bombing of Afghanistan. “Lots of people in Afghanistan are as innocent as those in New York City,” she proclaimed.

Singer James Taylor cautioned against drawing conclusions too soon, before we have a chance to develop perspective. “The rush for a consensus reality,” he warned, “ is inappropriate. It takes a while to find out what it is.”

Elizabeth Murray, a visual artist considered one of the most important painters in this country, vividly described the feeling of death in the neighborhood where she lives close to Ground Zero. All the lights were out, the television was not working. The atmosphere produced in this woman a loss of purpose. According to her, “most artists are normally on the edge of feeling that what they do is meaningless,” and this event pushed them further toward out along that edge.

The dire events of that September day also created another realization in Elizabeth Murray. “It took my breath away to realize how privileged we have been,” she told the audience. “In New York City, we have been spoiled,” Murray added.

A star of the musical stage, Mandy Patinkin, said that the catastrophe has made him consider what he does as an entertainer more deeply. And it has raised the question, “What is there in the American lifestyle worth defending?”

Patinkin does not think art in itself will be any different but that it will be seen and heard differently. He finished his remarks by sharing with listeners his new practice of leaving four different boxes in the back of theaters where he performs and ends by asking for donations for his favorite charities that promote world peace.

Trisha Brown, dancer and choreographer, at first felt stunned by the destruction and loss of life but was later vitalized by contact with her students. “An integration came into my life that was very hopeful,” she reported.

Some of the panelists showed themselves very critical of American values. “How shallow American culture has become,” complained Elizabeth Murray. She cited in particular the worship of celebrity and the pervasive use of spin control.

Jamaica Kincaid returned to her earlier themes saying that what has happened is “bigger than us, than our feelings.” She even corrected what others had said about the importance of compassion: “I like compassion but I like justice first.” And that should concern us Americans, she indicated, in our situation whereby ten percent of the world’s people control ninety percent of its resources.

This same outspoken writer also criticized the singing of “God Bless America.” In contrast with the title of the song, she asked the question: “God, can you give some blessings of people in other parts of the world?”

These artists also voice concern about censorship by government and self-censorship by organizations such as the Boston Symphony Orchestra which recently changed a concert program because of concerns about “sensitivity.” Playwright John Guare proposed as a reason for opposing censorship that the role of art may be to oppose what others say.

Like a biblical prophet, that same author moralized thus: “How flimsy our lives are, the things we have to have.” 

 

Richard Griffin

Exercise

Last spring, a friend named Joe asked my counsel on a personal issue that had suddenly taken on more importance for him. The arrival of his sixtieth birthday had stirred him to realize his need for more physical exercise and he wanted suggestions from me about how to start.

Joe’s request caught me unprepared, forcing me to ask for time to learn more about exercise before I could advise him or anyone else. Since then, I have accumulated much information about the subject and have made significant changes in my own schedule of physical activity. Unfortunately, Joe and I have not yet come together for me to share my discoveries with him.

Unlike most people, however, Joe has already done some serious exercise, at least irregularly. Thus he differs from the forty percent of Americans who, research reveals, are completely sedentary. Another forty percent reportedly do not exercise enough to get much benefit for their health and fitness. That leaves only one in five of us who take exercise seriously enough to do something about it.

My friend Joe’s request for help moved me to self-examination on the subject. Though I have gone swimming each day for many years, walked at least a mile, and played softball most Sundays from April through October, I felt the need to add another kind of physical activity, namely resistance exercise. This involves pushing and lifting so as to strengthen muscles.

If you were to walk by the section of the university health center where I go each day, you might now see this septuagenarian sitting on a large blue plastic exercise ball, first squatting and then lifting myself up, several times in order to strengthen the muscles of my legs.

You could also see me sitting on a leg curl machine, leaning back and lifting with my feet a bar almost at the floor level. I also sit on a leg extension machine that has me pressing a similar bar down against resistance.

At first, these activities felt slightly ridiculous. Seeing myself in the mirror, dressed in old clothes and looking disreputable, made me wonder if I was in the right place. The people around me were all much younger than I and clearly taking on more arduous challenges on the machines. Sitting on that big ball felt especially silly, since I felt dubious about its value. Why was I doing things that I had often dismissed as appropriate only for yuppies or Generation X?

Gradually, however, the routine has come to feel more comfortable. What has made a decisive difference is the guidance of a young woman who is an exercise trainer. By being so accepting of me with my physical limitations and my uncertain confidence, Wendy Brown has helped me take on new forms of exercise with growing enthusiasm. Swimming and walking remain my prime exercises but work on the machines and the large ball extends the physical value of my regimen.

Most Americans have probably heard something about the value of exercise. What few people realize, however, is how many varied benefits exercise provides. To quote a summary provided by researchers: “During the past 15 years, several hundred studies have looked at the effects of exercise on depression and found that exercise increases self-esteem, improves mood, reduces anxiety levels, increases the ability to handle stress, and improves sleep patterns.”  

I admire the approach of one of my neighbors, Marie Costello. About to celebrate her 91st birthday this month, she takes part in what she calls “old lady exercises” at our public library each week. She and the other participants in these hour-long sessions move their arms, legs, and torsos in a sequence carefully calculated to increase strength and flexibility. And Marie follows through by repeating some of these exercises at home.

She also walks a lot. “I never ask my sons or anyone to take me shopping,” Marie reports, because the ride would deprive her of a fine walking opportunity. Incidentally, she also believes in another form of physical exercise, that of her brain. A few days after I talked with her, she was going to La Paz, New York, where Will Shortz, the crossword editor of the New York Times, runs what she calls a “word weekend,” days that she finds highly enjoyable.

Almost everyone can do some exercise, if only pushing against the nearest wall. But to get started, most of us need the support of others. If you wish to begin or to improve your exercise plan, you can call the Council on Aging in your city or town hall and ask about group programs already functioning in your community. Or, if you prefer to exercise by yourself, you might ask for advice from a Council on Aging staff member.

You can also find such assistance at your regional ASAP (Aging Services Access Point), what used be called the Home Care Corporation. Ask first for the staff person who handles information and referral. Taking a step like this might soon enrich your life.

Richard Griffin