Long Shot Short-Changes the Embracing of More Powerful Women in Relationships By Rendering the Narrative With Fairy Tale Flavor

In the realm of “modern” fairy tales, perhaps all we have to speak of in the present is Long Shot. A politically tinged comedy (or farce, depending on how you look at it), the narrative centers on Fred Flarsky (Seth Rogen), a nebbish journalist with enough faux edge to infiltrate a white supremacist group (going so far as to get half of a swastika tattoo before being found out) yet still publish it for some millennial (read: hipster) rag called Brooklyn Advocate. In the background of this, an unholy acquisition has taken place–with Fred’s once “freedom of speech” news forum being bought out by Parker Wembley’s (Andy Serkis) media conglomerate (Wembley is a deliberately Steve Bannon-like doppelganger, who also not so coincidentally has the president in his back pocket as well). 

Upon learning of the change in management, Fred quits his job, refusing even to be fired by his boss so he can at least collect unemployment. This is just the first of many examples that will materialize over the course of the movie to iterate that there is no man more principled, more noble–more vehement about always taking the moral high ground–than he is. In fairy tale terms, this, of course, means that despite being the proverbial ugly duckling, he is also the only one who can be worthy of a princess’ love. Or, in this case, a female ruler in the form of Charlotte Field (Charlize Theron). Soon to announce her bid in the 2020 election (earlier than her plan to do so in 2024) after President Chambers (Bob Odenkirk), whose only “experience” in politics has been playing a president on TV (again, Long Shot makes no bones about shading real people in the current three-ring circus called U.S. government), informs the public of his plan not to run again. In spite of his unbridled incompetence, Charlotte has no choice but to defend his “honor” at every turn if she wants to secure his endorsement for her campaign. Which she’s already putting in the face time for at events like the one in which, for no ostensible reason, Boys II Men is performing live. 

As a woman self-admittedly frozen in 90s time (a point driven home by referring to herself as Encino Man), the only other person more enthusiastic about their presence is Fred, who recognizes her immediately in the crowd not only as the Secretary of State, but as his former babysitter (then slightly senior to his thirteen years). His babysitter in front of whom he got a very pronounced boner after giving her a hug, only for the humiliation to intensify when Charlotte’s boyfriend emerges from the living room during a commercial break from Blossom and, to add insult to injury, wields Joey Lawrence’s catch phrase of “Whoa!” upon seeing Fred’s embarrassing display. 

While Fred interprets Charlotte telling him, “That’s okay” in the flashback to mean, “Don’t worry about it, you’re a dweeb and this is something we never have to speak of again,” his best friend, Lance (O’Shea Jackson Jr.)–the one responsible for bringing him to the party to cheer him up about the Wembley acquisition (only for Wembley himself to show up to the “too bright” [as in white] rich person’s fête–insists she meant, “That’s okay” to mean “It’s okay for you to feel that way about me.” That she was leaving the door open to potentially embrace it one day when the circumstances were right. That day, evidently, is tonight–with Charlotte specifically summoning him over to talk and briefly catch up after which he, of course, bombastically falls down the stairs. It is this and so many other instances like it that are designed to highlight Fred’s oafishness that firmly place Long Shot in the Beauty and the Beast genre and formula. 

The only problem with Liz Hannah (deviating from the likes of The Post for this movie) and Dan Sterling’s “forward-thinking” script is that while it’s already far more believable in general that a woman is endlessly capable of accepting a man’s physical flaws and/or gracelessness, we’re made to believe the concept is somehow more novel simply because Charlotte is an important public figure, therefore has more to lose than the average woman who “settles” for a lovable ugo. And yet, previous real life examples abound of very famous and attractive women pairing with less “equitable” men (including Marilyn Monroe and Arthur Miller, Christie Brinkley and Billy Joel and Julia Roberts and Lyle Lovett)–and being all too happy to say “public opinion be damned.” Thus, this “suspension of disbelief” element for something that isn’t so unbelievable is one primary aspect of Long Shot’s problematic (even if well-intentioned) message. 

While, on the surface, the movie poses as conveying a positive advertisement for how men of the future can possibly be legitimately feminist enough to abide playing second (therefore emasculated) fiddle to their girlfriend, at its core, it is an old fairy tale masquerading as a more “evolved” one. And yet, it only serves to emphasize that it is still a woman who must cater and bow down to her man’s fragile self-esteem.

What’s worse, the ending, which does its best to debunk the aforementioned trope, only offers a less favorable one by presenting the already previously believed theory of most delicate(ly ego’d) men that, in order to be with a more powerful woman, one essentially needs to embody the cliche of being “whipped”/having his balls cut off (this much accented by Fred proudly declaring he’s her Mister and taking her last name). So no, despite its intent, Long Shot really seems to be doing quite the opposite of making powerful women come across as palatable to someone who isn’t as drug-addled as Seth Rogen and the characters he plays. Nor does it improve upon the female plight in the Beauty and the Beast dynamic–which is to say, no matter how in love, she’s always going to be at risk of public embarrassment unless the male in question makes a complete physical transformation (which, to be sure, a woman would be expected to do without hesitation à la Cinderella, Laney Boggs, Josie Geller, Marisa Ventura, et. al.). Fred isn’t expected to do that by his highly accepting Beauty (though it is suggested by one of Charlotte’s key staffers). How typical.

Genna Rivieccio http://culledculture.com

Genna Rivieccio writes for myriad blogs, mainly this one, The Burning Bush, Missing A Dick, The Airship and Meditations on Misery.

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