By Sophia Savage | Thompson on Hollywood April 10, 2012 at 5:29PM
In the past week, actresses and their weight have been front and center. When moviegoers suggested that Kate Winslet was too fat in the 3-D rerelease of the 1997 blockbuster "Titanic," she responded that she's now thinner than co-star Leonardo DiCaprio. Jennifer Lawrence was described as not hungry enough in "The Hunger Games." Supermarket tabloids plastered photos of Scarlett Johannson's cellulite thighs. And Ashley Judd, in her must-read Daily Beast essay, insists that if there's going to be a conversation about her weight, she wants it to be feminist, "because it has been misogynistic from the start":
"The insanity has to stop, because as focused on me as it appears to have been, it is about all girls and women. In fact, it’s about boys and men, too, who are equally objectified and ridiculed, according to heteronormative definitions of masculinity that deny the full and dynamic range of their personhood. It affects each and every one of us, in multiple and nefarious ways: our self-image, how we show up in our relationships and at work, our sense of our worth, value, and potential as human beings. Join in—and help change—the Conversation."
The media is largely responsible for propagating these negative images of women. Because it sells papers and lures eyeballs, the media deploys a build-them-up, tear-them-down approach to celebrity coverage. And we're not just talking about sensationalist gossip sites and tabloids.
Actors have become our fashion and beauty models and marketing mouthpieces. This isn't news. But somewhere the already tenuous line vanished between celebrity and human being. Actresses know that they face constant dissection and comparisons: they are too thin, too fat, or look too good (have had work done). Not only are they held to ridiculous professional standards and ridicule; so are their fans. Women and girls are taught that "perfection" earns them attention, and fame, and value. That pursuit often ends in rehab, death or extreme scrutiny in the arena of careers gone beserk (watch that disturbing 60-second video of Lindsay Lohan aging).
Happily, "The Hunger Games" is kicking ass at the box office as it presents a parable that offers an admirable athletic heroine survivor along with a scathing review of our culture. Inevitably, Lawrence has been hit with the usual criticism about her "womanly figure" and "lingering baby fat." How many actresses have we watched starve themselves after such unwelcome appreciation? Is Katniss Everdeen too healthy-looking to believably exist in her world? That's no different than our noisy media promoting a narrow range of acceptable womanhood, as skin-and-bones young women are praised for "rocking a bikini." This kind of dialogue is also damaging to our daughters, our friends, and ourselves.