On a flight over to the Bahamas (don’t judge me just yet, it’s not as indulgent as it sounds) a film called Joy was one of the options for inflight entertainment. Having been recommended it, I decided to give it a go. I had first chosen to watch “How to be single” in an attempt to seek some courage and advice on the recent re-revelation that I needed to ‘make it on my own’. It was a fun and funny film, blunt and whatever the American equivalent of ‘ladette-ish’ could be. I enjoyed it, but there was one bugbear for a self proclaiming feminist like myself; the women were still defined by their (non)relationship status; be it their ability to ‘get over’, ‘get under’ or get away from a guy. They still attempted to find their worthiness through emancipation from a member of the opposite sex.
I realise that because many of us growing up are socialised into thinking that we’re only complete once we fulfil our god given duties of having our breasts suckled first by our partners then by their children – sorry I mean, becoming wives and mothers – so these films serve as a reminder that it’s good to define yourself outside of a sexual partner. However at the end of the day it suffered inherently from the same problem as all those ‘single independent woman who still gets the guy’ movies (I’m looking at you Amy, Schumer) It still centred around men.
It wasn’t until three quarters of the way though Joy that I realised this. Jennifer Lawrence does deliver a stellar performance as the title character, but Joy is the type of film that I’m rarely in the mood to watch; it falls into that category of heart-wrenchers that I usually can’t cope with due to the sheer number of lifetime upheavals squeezed into 90 minutes. (Also, I’d just finished The Big Short so I was already riled up over civil and capitalism’s injustices, I wasn’t really in the mood for more emotional turbulence).
Nevertheless I stuck with it, even after Joy got worn down by her family, knocked back by the television network and ripped off by big business, each one feeling like a blow that I couldn’t handle anymore and nearly switched to Pride and Prejudice and Zombies again. I stuck with her as she rose again each time. That’s when I realised that her strength as a woman isn’t defined by her ability to stick with or be without a man, but her strength is just that; hers. Hers that she summons up from within. This is the importance of a film like Joy.