SXSWORLD

BADASS WOMEN DID BADASS THINGS AT THE SXSW FILM FESTIVAL By Britt Hayes I n film, the "strong female lead" is often shorthand for a certain kind of woman: She's strong, of course, both mentally and phys- ically, and though she's usually seen kicking various forms of ass, you'll never witness her crying over it. To some degree, she is a cine- matic variation on Gillian Flynn's "Cool Girl," an impossible ideal projected through the male gaze. Over the years, the "strong female lead" concept has become reductive, a one-dimensional insinu- ation that a woman's strength is limited and can be typified—but there's nothing typical about the women featured in four of this year's acclaimed SXSW film selections.  On its surface, Atomic Blonde probably comes the closest to meeting those basic requirements, with Charlize Theron as an elusive and remark- ably steely MI6 agent sent to Berlin to investigate the death of a fellow spy during the Cold War. Theron's Lorraine Broughton is a tough act, the kind who makes sure there's never anyone left to follow. The eponymous "atomic blonde" may bear the simplistic hallmarks of a strong female lead, but she coolly subverts them—and directly challenges the male gaze that created them—in a studio film that has the defiant attitude of one with a much smaller, more fearless budget.  Consider Atomic Blonde and its deceptively multifaceted lead to be a gateway to the world of badass women, like the fierce quartet at the heart of Going to Brazil. The rowdy French film from director Patrick Mille (Bad Girl) follows four old friends reunited by a wedding, but their blissful, party-heavy vacation takes a hard left turn when they accidentally kill someone—someone with ties to a crooked politician, which leads the women on a wild journey involving the mob, kid- napping and loaded weapons. Going to Brazil is a film with big, bold characters and a quick wit matched only by its pacing. Even so, each of the four leads feels fully-developed, with inner lives and perspectives of her own. Though initially introduced as various types, those superficial attributes are deceptive; in other words, looks can be misleading.  The same might be said for the subjects of the startlingly poignant documentary Served Like a Girl, which tracks five female veterans vying for the title of Ms. Veteran America. Definitely not your average beauty pageant, it is a compe- tition that raises funds and awareness for the increasing number of homeless female veterans.  According to director Lysa Heslov, these women "have been to hell and back," all haunted by traumatic events in ways that are simultane- ously unique and unifying, giving them a distinct sense of empathy and a remarkable sense of pur- pose. Still, Heslov makes it clear that her primary goal "was to make sure these women were never portrayed as victims. That would have really pissed the veterans off," she says. "And they are not women you want to piss off."  Her surprisingly comprehensive documen- tary profiles both organizers and competitors, an array of women from different backgrounds and experiences, united by both profession and gender in a field where the latter sometimes works against the former—which makes it all the more inspiring to watch them participate in a competition that emphasizes the very thing that is often perceived as a weakness, while proving that feminine strength takes myriad forms. To Heslov, a badass woman is one "who is not afraid to use her voice with strength, passion and con- fidence, but," she adds, it's also "a woman who celebrates and feels confident in her femininity and beauty."  Valerie Weiss, director of The Archer, would agree with that valuation. Being a strong woman, she says, "means not being afraid to embrace all that is feminine about yourself while pursuing your goals and dreams to the bitter end." Such is the case for Lauren Pierce, the queer protag- onist of Weiss' thrilling drama, and whom the director affectionately describes as a "Western film hero."  That is the most typical thing about The Archer's namesake, a troubled young woman sent to a treacherous "reform camp" for girls after she experiences an abrupt, violent outburst. While there, she forms an intimate bond with a fellow detainee, and the two plot their harrowing escape from an oppressive institution run by a bow-hunting warden hell-bent on breaking these young women and making them feel entirely helpless. As Weiss explains, he's "symbolic of a society that tries to subvert women's power even when it is so obvious to us that we are powerful, and we prove it over and over again."  Although equipped with her own individual story and experiences, Pierce shares much in common with the women in the aforementioned films. "To me," Weiss says, "female strength is a confidence in your abilities, insights and convic- tion about what is right, independent of what and who society is telling you to be"—which could so aptly describe many of the women featured here, and perhaps more than a few in your own life.  Though seemingly at odds, these concepts of strength and femininity are not mutually exclu- sive. Using means as varied and engaging as the subjects themselves, these filmmakers show women as complex and complicated individuals, each possessing an inner network of hopes and thoughts and ambitions; each with competing ideas and qualities held simultaneously. That their stories still, after all this time, feel like an act of defiance is all the more reason for you to see them. Charlize Theron attends the Atomic Blonde premiere at SXSW 2017, photo by Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images Served Live A Girl, photo by Ron Herrman Bailey Noble and director Valerie Weiss at the The Archer World Premiere, photo by Hutton Supancic/Getty Images Going to Brazil

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