In Defense of McG’s Hypersexualized Female Protagonists In ‘The Babysitter,’ ‘Charlie’s Angels’ And More

Where to Stream:

The Babysitter

Powered by Reelgood

“You’ve gotta punch ’em in the dick,” Bee quips to the kid she babysits, advising him on repelling bullies. Played by Samara Weaving, Bee is the latest voluptuous murderess to grace a film by Joseph McGinty Nichol—known professionally as McG. The Babysitter, out now on Netflix, poses many similarities to McG’s arsenal of garish works. Having executive produced The CW’s Nikita and directed both films in the second iteration of the Charlie’s Angels franchise, his work typically features badass female leads wearing minimal clothing, who fight, strip, and jog in hyperbolic slo-mo. His over-sexualized protagonists have become as customary to his work as his lurid cinematography—and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

In The Babysitter, Weaving plays a ‘hot babysitter’ who runs a satanic cult out of her client’s living room. Her character transforms in the same way Natalie, Dylan and Alex do in Charlie’s Angels; they begin as innocuous, bubbly, girl next door-types, then unleash the fury on their enemies, compromising their doe-like gender presentations. In the past, male directors who highlight sexy, killer female characters have been criticized for their use of ‘the male gaze’ (like Harmony Korine for his bikini-clad Spring Breakers or Simon West for Lara Croft: Tomb Raider). But McG makes the case that it’s possible to portray kickass, lesser-dressed heroines in a way that’s not totally offensive or voyeuristic.

Anneke Smelik, an author and professor of Visual Culture, penned an essay on the difference between female slayers like Lara Croft and Beatrix Kiddo of Kill Bill. Smelik argues that Croft has no emotional depth and is over-sexualized in her clothing, as well as how the camera intimately tracks her body—but Kiddo’s body is never exploited. McG’s characters fall somewhere in the middle on this spectrum of female warriors: His Angels are sexy, conventionally attractive, and can effortlessly slay an enemy, whether wearing an oversized fur coat to skimpy nightclub attire.

Cameron Diaz in Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle.©Columbia Pictures/Courtesy Ever

But what’s exciting to female viewers is their ability to identify with these characters; McG combines traditional displays of power and strength with femininity and the female form. For young women, seeing someone who presents as traditionally feminine exercise independence and strength is important. And for young queer women like myself who were raised on films like Charlie’s Angels, these movies served as a sort of sexual awakening. As embarrassing as that may be, these moments in film were pivotal in my personal self-discovery and self-acceptance. The female murderesses of The Babysitter (including Bella Thorne and Hana Mae Lee) probably fulfill that purpose for today’s queer teenagers.

Masculine-presenting action heroines are influential, too—especially because not all women identify with feminine gender presentations. Characters like Furiosa in Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) and Ellen Ripley in the Alien series are badass, masculinized action stars, while Sarah Connor of The Terminator straddles the line with her buff arms and revealing tank-tops. These characters are feminist heroes, partly because their sex appeal has little to do with their inherent power. On the other end of the spectrum, there’s Leeloo from Luc Besson’s The Fifth Element (1997) who is advertised as an all-powerful being, but is nearly naked in most of her scenes and relies heavily on the male protagonists to save her. Besson’s 2017 film Valerian falls victim to the same mistakes: Laureline, the alluring sergeant played by Cara Delevingne, flirts with independence but is robbed of a personality—and is viewed through the eyes of her male partner and romantic interest, Valerian. Characters like Nikita, Bee, and the Angels have a breadth of character traits and motivations—none of which are driven by romantic interests.

For example, Bee starts a satanic cult, sacrificing lives of the innocent to gain confidence and a hot body. Her whole mantra is about figuring out what you want and then making it happen. Nikita is driven by revenge against her captors, and the Angels are fulfilling a passion by pursuing careers they’re proud to have. We’re always watching from their perspective.

Atomic Blonde hit theaters this July, starring Charlize Theron as a bisexual MI6 agent. Some critics loved it, some found it exploitative, but I found her unapologetic display of sexuality and promiscuity empowering. Recently, director James Cameron criticized Wonder Woman (2017) for the character’s sexualized appearance. Patty Jenkins, who directed the film, said Cameron didn’t understand what Wonder Woman stands for, what she means to women, or what it’s like for women to see themselves represented in action movies. She wrote on Twitter, “[I]f women have to always be hard, tough, and troubled to be strong, and we aren’t free to be multidimensional or celebrate an icon of women everywhere because she is attractive and loving, then we haven’t come very far have we?”

Some of the most feminist movies are about good girls doing bad things—like Charlie’s Angels—or bad girls doing bad things—like The Babysitter. While I wouldn’t necessarily hail The Babysitter as a quintessential feminist film, there’s something to be said for women behaving badly on screen. As a woman, and a queer woman, I find girls who kick ass fun to watch, and I’m less concerned about their moral compass. As long as the female warrior isn’t vacuous and completely devoid of substance, then why can’t she also be sexually empowered? If male protagonists can be sexy, merciless, bloodthirsty psychopaths, then women can be, too—and that’s the morally questionable brand of feminism I’m sticking to.

Jill Gutowitz is a haunted pair of overalls / writer living in Los Angeles. Follow her on Twitter: @jillboard.

Watch The Babysitter on Netflix