Acquiesce. It’s What We Do.
An episode of GLOW just managed to add its name to my shortlist of unforgettable TV moments. Some shows have a moment you know, even as you’re watching it, that you’ll remember that moment for the rest of your life.
The way I figure, if you gave the average person who enjoys a healthy diet of TV a few undistracted minutes to jot down the most unforgettable scenes they’ve watched, most people could crank out 10, maybe even 20, without batting an eye or using Google.
When Alex Keaton struggles with an addiction to uppers.
When Fonzie prays to God.
When Oscar Goldman’s friggin’ face comes off.
When the Oceanic Flight 815 explodes on the beach.
When Captain Turner loses his eye.
When Joan’s fiance rapes her.
When Jesse pulls that trigger.
When Dr. Greene can’t deliver the baby.
When Gary dies. (Hell, I still insta-cry just thinking about this one.)
When shows set in the past work best, it’s because they have mastered the art of living in two worlds. They respect getting the past right, nailing those cultural norms and details that define a previous time, and they shine a light on ways the past has done us wrong from our more modern perspective. We viewers, comfortable in our modern superiority, are given a safe distance from which to judge the horrors of others in another time… even as many of the criticisms being revealed remain in our collective blood.
— WARNING: SEASON 2 SPOILER AHEAD —
Episode 5 of GLOW’s second season is titled, “Perverts are People, Too.”
Ruth (Alison Brie), the always-the-bridesmaid second fiddle in life character at the heart of the show, is invited to a dinner with the network chief Tom Grant. She agrees thinking this is that special moment someone sees her potential and wants to harness it. Instead, she experiences Harvey Weinstein. Her outside public dinner location is conveniently moved into a personal cabana. The male assistant present as the third wheel, knowing full well his role in this charade (even if he so desperately wishes he didn’t), conveniently bows out to order dinner with no intention of returning.
What ensues need not be rape or any act of extreme sexual assault to be utterly uncomfortable to watch. At this point we have spent almost 15 episodes endearing ourselves to Ruth, personality warts and all. We need only have a smidgen of empathy to feel her fear and our own anger.
The scene offers a careful measure of violation. Not so much that even Donald Trump would call it assault, but not so little that reasonable minds can dismiss Ruth’s discomfort and panic in the moment. The next day, when confessing her encounter to former bestie and show co-producer Debbie, she receives the exact response some unknown number of women in every career, in every decade, have received, which has exactly nothing whatsoever to do with sympathy or support and everything to do with blame, guilt, and shame.
I’m not sure what cuts deeper — the idea of someone not believing you when you say you’ve been assaulted, or the idea of someone totally believing you but blaming you for not handling it better. Is it all in your head, or are you better off just acquiescing? Are those really the only two options?
GLOW is a perfectly imperfect show, and that’s why I’m so drawn to it. It wears its cheesy flaws and shortcomings on its Spandex sleeves, and it doesn’t wield feminism like some ringside chair where the goal is to beat someone bloody while the ref ain’t looking. It merely has the audacity to treat women like, y’know, human beings and men like… more flawed versions of human beings.
Later on in the season, Ruth once again has a terribly awkward encounter with a male who has professional authority over her, and it is this encounter that leaves me puzzled about issues of right and wrong, appropriate and inappropriate, and I believe that is fully the intent of the show’s writers and creators. Sure, that last test was easy…. But what about this one?
That’s the kind of move that makes for a brilliant show. If only it had more Pat Benatar in the soundtrack...
YEAR: 1981
