I just think there's this certain assumption that when a man tells the truth, it's the truth. And when, as a woman, I go to tell the truth, I feel like I have to negotiate the way I'll be perceived. Like I feel like there's always the suspicion around a woman's truth. The idea that you're exaggerating.
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Firstly, let me say this: I agree that Kathleen Hanna played a very important role in feminist history and I respect her for that. Get down with your bad Riot Grrrl self! However, please, for the love of whomever you find sacred, please get some perspective!
I am very sorry that she is suffering from what is revealed at the end of this film. I am, I truly am. I have not walked a mile in her shoes but I can only assume that her journey through her health issues have been a nightmare.
Here's my problem with the film: it's such an exercise in navel-gazing and delusion, at times it's almost painful to watch. If she would have just OWNED the fact that she's married to a Beastie Boy and has access to care and treatment that most normal people do not, I would have found her story more tolerable. And let's not forget that this is supposed to be an empowered feminist, yet when she talks of her stripper past (which I am NOT judging her for), she says, "It was the only decent paying job I could get." I call B.S. on that! Honey, just own it! You wanted to strip for the money - no big deal. But please don't make it out like it was the ONLY job you could get. Puh-leeeeze! We are basically the same age and while she's a heck of a lot cuter than I ever was and looked better in a bikini than I ever did, I found a way to have a decent paying job where I didn't remove my clothes (my choice).
I wanted to love this movie. But I did not. I did however love all the old 90s footage and some fun interviews with the likes of Kim Gordon and Tavi Gevinson.
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