Welcome to DU!
The truly grassroots left-of-center political community where regular people, not algorithms, drive the discussions and set the standards.
Join the community:
Create a free account
Support DU (and get rid of ads!):
Become a Star Member
Latest Breaking News
General Discussion
The DU Lounge
All Forums
Issue Forums
Culture Forums
Alliance Forums
Region Forums
Support Forums
Help & Search
The Female Gaze
How Amy Schumer flips the script on real-life gender dynamics.
[center]
[/center]
The third season of Inside Amy Schumer opens with a musical number. “Milk, Milk, Lemonade” is a spoof of booty anthems starring Amy Schumer herself, with an assist by the impressively proportioned model Amber Rose, and it serves as a reminder that butts don’t just serve as a focal point for the male gaze; women also poop out of them. It is at once scatological, sexy, and subversive—exactly the feminist flavor that’s made Schumer’s Comedy Central sketch show a hit even among the network’s target demo of young men. “Milk, Milk, Lemonade” is also a sly little sweetener: a way for the show to lure viewers into their seats before serving them more complicated fare.
The societal gender dynamics that Schumer skewers don’t shift much over the course of a year, so part of what keeps Inside Amy Schumer interesting season to season is the way Schumer finds new angles into old problems. Look closely, and you can even see Schumer’s own political perspective shifting. When the show’s second season premiered last year, Slate’s Willa Paskin called it “the most sneakily feminist show on TV.” This time around, Schumer gets more explicit. In one absurd faux PSA (“The More You Think You Know!”), Schumer addresses the audience about the gender wage gap while she digs a makeshift grave for a dead stripper. But the website that appears on screen during her spiel is no joke—it leads viewers to a pay-equity fact sheet published by the Institute for Women’s Policy Research.
Another way Schumer advances her commentary is by finding some new butts for her jokes. Part of the show’s cross-gender appeal has traditionally lied in its rejection of conspicuous man-hating: Over the past two seasons, Schumer has emerged as comedy’s sharpest observer of female pack behavior, and many of her most memorable skits have zeroed in on how women contort their own minds and bodies to cope with the low-grade degradations society throws their way—from refusing to accept compliments, to competitively body-shaming themselves. This focus makes sense in part because Schumer, the actress, performs so winningly at the batshit edge of femininity. It also helps Schumer’s sketches to resist the obvious target and find humor in surprise. In addition, pointing out how women perpetuate sexism against themselves, and one another, makes for a relatively easily digestible feminist critique.
[center]
[/center]
The third season of Inside Amy Schumer opens with a musical number. “Milk, Milk, Lemonade” is a spoof of booty anthems starring Amy Schumer herself, with an assist by the impressively proportioned model Amber Rose, and it serves as a reminder that butts don’t just serve as a focal point for the male gaze; women also poop out of them. It is at once scatological, sexy, and subversive—exactly the feminist flavor that’s made Schumer’s Comedy Central sketch show a hit even among the network’s target demo of young men. “Milk, Milk, Lemonade” is also a sly little sweetener: a way for the show to lure viewers into their seats before serving them more complicated fare.
The societal gender dynamics that Schumer skewers don’t shift much over the course of a year, so part of what keeps Inside Amy Schumer interesting season to season is the way Schumer finds new angles into old problems. Look closely, and you can even see Schumer’s own political perspective shifting. When the show’s second season premiered last year, Slate’s Willa Paskin called it “the most sneakily feminist show on TV.” This time around, Schumer gets more explicit. In one absurd faux PSA (“The More You Think You Know!”), Schumer addresses the audience about the gender wage gap while she digs a makeshift grave for a dead stripper. But the website that appears on screen during her spiel is no joke—it leads viewers to a pay-equity fact sheet published by the Institute for Women’s Policy Research.
Another way Schumer advances her commentary is by finding some new butts for her jokes. Part of the show’s cross-gender appeal has traditionally lied in its rejection of conspicuous man-hating: Over the past two seasons, Schumer has emerged as comedy’s sharpest observer of female pack behavior, and many of her most memorable skits have zeroed in on how women contort their own minds and bodies to cope with the low-grade degradations society throws their way—from refusing to accept compliments, to competitively body-shaming themselves. This focus makes sense in part because Schumer, the actress, performs so winningly at the batshit edge of femininity. It also helps Schumer’s sketches to resist the obvious target and find humor in surprise. In addition, pointing out how women perpetuate sexism against themselves, and one another, makes for a relatively easily digestible feminist critique.
Read More.
10 replies
= new reply since forum marked as read
= new reply since forum marked as read
