100 Favorite Shows: #90 — Mrs. America
“Our movement didn’t start in Washington; it’s not going to be stopped by it.”
In October 2018, FX announced that they would be capitalizing on chief John Landgraf’s love of historical miniseries and creator Dahvi Waller’s proclivity for period pieces by greenlighting Mrs. America, a nine-part series based on the movement for and against the Equal Rights Amendment during the 1970s. Waller developed the show for a year and a half, tapping a slew of directors (namely Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck), and casting mega-stars (like Cate Blanchett as Phyllis Schlafly and Rose Byrne as Gloria Steinem) to bring Mrs. America to life. In 2019, the series shifted from FX to Hulu, where it eventually debuted in April 2020 to immense acclaim and six Emmy nominations. Mrs. America is the kind of show that just happens frequently on television now and we’re all the better for it.
(I guess this essay contains spoilers for Mrs. America, but they’re largely spoilers for U.S. history.)
I have two embarrassing confessions to make about Mrs. America.
One, what hooked me into the show — even beyond the stellar ensemble cast — was the parade of needle drops that anchored the series firmly in its 1970s period. (The theme song, “A Fifth of Beethoven” by Walter Murphy; “Fire” by Etta James; “Make Your Own Kind of Music” by Mama Cass Elliot; “I Want to Take You Higher” by Sly & The Family Stone; “This Time Tomorrow” by The Kinks; “Here Comes That Rainy Day Feeling Again” by The Fortunes.)
Two, the history behind the advocacy for and opposition to the Equal Rights Amendment was a complete blind spot for me. At first, Mrs. America, with its immense attention to detail percolating every graceful, stylish sequence on screen, was a comfort show to ease me into remote learning at university while eating a bagel for breakfast. Quickly, though, as I began to doubt whether or not the ERA had actually passed (history classes in high school pretty much stopped with World War II before cycling back to colonialism), the comfort slipped away and the music switched from “cool” to “foreboding.” I was nervous to use Wikipedia, knowing my suspicions were likely true. And yes, the ERA has still not been ratified, positioning Mrs. America as more of a tragedy than a slick, poised historical series.
My first suspicion came at the end of the first installment, “Phyllis,” which concluded with Phyllis Schlafly’s initially fringe newsletter against the ERA movement drenched in disregard by the feminist leaders who believed the amendment issue was all but settled in the political landscape. Blanchett was too powerful a lead (granted, I’d never heard of Schlafly before Mrs. America) to not see her role increased over the course of the nine episodes. And so it was that Schlafly’s right-wing resistance spread “hysteria and lies” across the states reluctant to ratify, radicalizing the opposition against “terrorizing” feminists, who really only wanted equality. History: so timely these days!
The term, “feminist” still carries an unfair, irrational stigma because of these scare tactics popularized by Schlafly and the sycophants who harped on her strategy (and those who predated it). Because Schlafly was a woman, these tactics were given greater weight during the ’70s because if a woman espoused the feminists, then shouldn’t we all? It was a perfect excuse for those who sought “the best smokescreen for their chauvinism,” as Gloria Steinem observed when the ERA lost its previously-guaranteed ratification votes in Illinois after Schlafly and her team of housewives brought bread to male legislators. Simple as that, apparently.
For many, bread has obviously been historically more desired by men in positions of power than women’s rights. So it’s not really a surprise to the ERA team when the ones they strive to convince are so easily swayed by pretty smiles and sweet treats. No matter how passionate the advocacy was on either side, Mrs. America showed that men in power almost always see women as objects to be appeased, rather than voices to be heard. Legislators frequently mock the ERA as an excuse to avoid “housework” or a distraction from more “substantive” issues, like tax reform. Even Congressman Phil Crane (James Marsden) votes for whatever his chief of staff instructs him to, as opposed to both Schlafly and Steinem’s groups, who reason out their beliefs for their respective stances.
What I appreciate about Mrs. America, though, is that it never posits Phyllis Schlafly as just one change of heart away from teaming up with her fellow women to fight the patriarchy. Granted, history tells us that’s distinctly what didn’t happen, but I was definitely concerned (after reading up on Schlafly) that the series would end with a sympathetic portrait of her character and a raised eyebrow in the direction of influential figures like Steinem. Instead, Phyllis Schlafly was depicted to be every part the villain she was in real life.
Yes, there are occasional glimpses that Schlafly resents the casual misogyny she experiences in her daily life (the perception that her top skill is baking, the constant insistence to smile). After all, Schlafly is clearly intuitive (perhaps even more so than her husband, Fred (John Slattery), who becomes privy to their local district remapping when Phyllis sees it as an opportunity to run for office) and driven (she insists that Harvard Law School would have made a co-ed exception for her). And she’s obviously conflicted over how opinionated she actually is. It’s in her quelled reactions when men who didn’t even bother to read the ERA dismiss her concerns and her own husband dissuades her political dreams by rhetorically wondering who would ever take care of the kids if she were to commute to her office in the nation’s capital.
Just because she is whip-smart and ambitious during a time when it was taboo for conservative women to be so, though, that does not mean Phyllis Schlafly was not a downright cruel human being. Her dismissal of sexual harassment as being “deserved” by the victim is one such moment that would make any decent person recoil.
It does for Jill Ruckelshaus (Elizabeth Banks), a Republican who bridged the partisan debate with her co-founding of the National Organization for Women (NOW). She seethes at Phyllis’ outwardly evil, misogynistic actions and hypocritical statements, eventually unleashing the devastating remark, “You wanna get ahead climbing on the shoulders of men, Phyllis, fine. Just know they’re looking right up your skirt.” From moments like these, it’s clear that Phyllis Schlafly may be a complicated figure, but her legacy is the willful, ill-intentioned impediment to progress. When she arrives in D.C. for a brief meeting with Crane, the spark of heart in her eyes is derived from the sight of the Jefferson Memorial, as opposed to most D.C. shakers in media history (like Jimmy Stewart in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington), who draw inspiration from the Lincoln Memorial. Schlafly didn’t venture to D.C. to change the system; she only wanted to destroy an amendment for equality.
Mrs. America also goes to great lengths to draw parallels between Schlafly and Gloria Steinem, both of whom used unconventional strategies to push their agenda and reached larger audiences through magazines and newsletters. While Schlafly’s mechanisms were calculated and carefully plotted in advance from the fringe of the debate, Steinem’s tended to be the product of her gut and her heart; she trusted her moral compass to guide her path as an advocate from the very beginning. (In the second episode, “Gloria,” Bella Abzug (Margo Martindale) insists that Gloria must “play the game” to see her agendas succeed, but Gloria bucks the notion to fight for what is right, rather than what is logical, eventually culminating in her forcing a vote on abortion rights.)
“I don’t want people listening to me just because I have a pretty face,” Gloria insists in this exchange at the launch party for her own magazine, Ms. Bella retorts, “I would love it if people listened to me because I have a pretty face. Then, I wouldn’t have to shout. Who cares why they’re listening? They’re listening.” Gloria balks at the notion, prompting Bella to press on, “You think Kennedy agonized over whether he beat Nixon because of his looks? No, he thought, ‘I can’t believe I get to be president and shtup Marilyn Monroe.’” It’s not that Bella Abzug doesn’t have a point about the roles women are forced to play in the political game. It’s just that Gloria Steinem believes that the true path forward for feminists is to denounce all womanly traditions ascribed to them by the men who have dominated power for centuries. Steinem wants to affect real change on all levels and she’s willing to be unpopular to do it, whereas image was everything for Schlafly.
She mocks Playboy as a “one-dimensional” “drag,” even though many men would scoff such a notion. She advocates for the feature of Shirley Chisholm (Uzo Aduba) on the cover of Ms., even though some saw it as a poor marketing decision. Gloria is always striving to do the right thing and even though I’m always going to root for her (it also doesn’t hurt that Byrne, a favorite actor of mine, illuminates Steinem with an easy sense of unparalleled coolness, in the face of her immense responsibilities), I recognized the tragic elements of her moral code, perhaps just as Bella Abzug did. It’s not that Gloria’s wrong in the movement for the ERA’s ratification. It’s that Phyllis was politically savvier. Sadly, the game wins. This isn’t Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and Phyllis reaps the consequences of her enemies’ idealized advocacy.
Unfortunately, the expectations laid out for the women of Mrs. America are still relevant today. (As I mentioned above, Phil Crane told Phyllis to smile and how to smile while she appeared on his talk show. It’s a go-to method for media to show internalized sexism, but it’s always effective because the need to “smile” is an expectation impressed upon women daily.) Witnessing the frustration from Steinem and the National Women’s Political Caucus in regards to Schlafly’s blatant hypocrisy is just as infuriating as experiencing Christopher Darden’s outburst against a race-baiting Johnnie Cochran or reading Mitch McConnell’s insistence for Supreme Court integrity. What’s most tragic is the evergreen nature of this behavior.
Women are met with oppressive expectations and impossible standards and persistent efforts by narrative-setters to divide them against each other (as we see when Betty Friedan’s (Tracey Ullman) quote questioning Gloria’s ability to lead (which she is even skeptical about, considering her moral drive) is immediately taken out of context). It’s not that the women on the side of ERA ratification must always support one another no matter what (valid points are raised about who should be representing their movements and Betty feels abandoned by a movement that is controlled by younger advocates), but rather that the people asking the questions expect a movement to fall apart at even the slightest inkling of dissent.
The narrative set by Mrs. America, though, is a comprehensive one that interrogates all sides of the ERA movement and all perspectives from the most major influences. The per-character structure of Waller’s series helps to flesh the story out more than a standard biopic from Fox Searchlight ever could have. (A movie version of Mrs. America would have positioned Phyllis and Gloria as the developed yin-yang of the event with the other figures reduced to half-supporting/half-cameo turns, like Rob Lowe in The Outsiders, as Sodapop was a much bigger character in the S.E. Hinton novel.) We get an in-depth look at Alice Macray’s (Sarah Paulson) Houston bender that forces her to rethink her alignment with Schlafly and her acceptance of socialism (when she sings “This Land Is Your Land”), Chisholm’s bid for the presidency, Abzug’s organization of the National Women’s Conference, Ruckelshaus’ bipartisan crusade for unity. We get profound depth throughout Mrs. America.
(It should also be mentioned that the performances are superior throughout Mrs. America, showing that this level of acting just happens regularly on television now. Banks, Ullman, Aduba, Paulson, Martindale, Slattery, and more all turn in exceptional supporting performances that make me think the Emmys expanded their acting categories just to accommodate as many of them as possible.)
The best of these character studies comes in the fourth episode, “Betty,” which centers around the series’ most complicated and enriching character, Betty Friedan. As a woman who feels the movement she helped pioneer is leaving her behind (and as a woman who is frightened of how she can clearly delineate where Phyllis is coming from in her own railing), Betty is constantly reconciling her own innate belief in progress with her perceived selfishness over a yearning for the pro-ERA crowd to uphold enough traditions for her to still have a place among her fellow advocates.
Feeling that she has little to say anymore, Betty thrusts herself back into the public arena when she challenges Schlafly to a debate over the ERA, even when the NOW group advises her to lay low and not provide a bigger platform for Schlafly’s views. Friedan is hardly interested in being told what she should or shouldn’t do and takes Schlafly to task anyway, resulting in a solid slaying of the debate at first. That is, before Schlafly manages to conjure an emotional reaction from Friedan, who angrily suggests Phyllis should be “burned at the stake.” (Who among us has not flashed white hot rage at someone so deft at burrowing under our flesh at the exact right moment?)
Obviously, we know that a “display of emotion” like this from a woman is grounds for discrediting the entire movement she fights for (as if an understandable outburst could at all take away from the logos behind the ERA’s supporters) in the minds of the public. It’s eventually what forces Friedan to embrace a reduced role in the movement, as Schlafly and her team immediately raced to paint the ERA as a bundle of negativity, instead appealing to the intrinsic want humans have to just be happy. Schlafly was best at peddling joy in the face of a furious Friedan, who had every right to be incensed at her mistreatment throughout her life. The culture of the U.S. just doesn’t care to hear it.
It is tragic, yes, and it’s a sentiment we see perpetuated throughout history. Like them or not, the current GOP is so much better at political strategy than the Democrats because the Schlafly play is just one page of their multi-generational playbook that has been proven to work time and again. It mines the need many Americans have to blame someone for their unhappiness and to seek stronger avenues for their own happiness, which frequently takes the form of a carrot on a string — just out of reach. We can see the beliefs of these ERA advocates and adversaries entrenched in history, as four decades later, Steinem endorsed Hillary Clinton and Schlafly endorsed Donald Trump. It just keeps going. The debates, the arguments, the opposing viewpoints. Steinem may have outlived Schlafly, but progress remains incremental. This is America in Mrs. America.
