[Content note: Very little, if anything, to do with feminism, and everything to do with Caperton taking self-indulgent advantage of an available forum]
You’ll have to pardon me for a moment, because a significant facet of my childhood has been mishandled much in the manner of a 19th century Spanish fresco. And yes, the imperfect yet beautiful original is the Jem cartoon, and yes, the nightmare-inducing Hodor-Jesus restoration is the Jem and the Holograms live-action movie.
According to the trailer, Jerrica Benton is a camera-shy high school student who becomes YouTube famous for a video of her playing a song she wrote, predictably leaked worldwide by her sister Kimber, leading to an out-of-nowhere record deal from The Biggest Record Company in the World. And then they all go to the Big City to rehash the plot of Josie and the Pussycats, minus the campy self-awareness, to the close-harmony strains of a One Direction song.
So here comes the nerd rage. Are you ready? Brace.
JERRICA BENTON IS A WOMAN WHO OWNS HER OWN RECORD COMPANY. Her band? The Holograms? Known as “The Holograms” because THEIR SECRET IDENTITIES ARE CREATED USING HOLOGRAMS. GENERATED BY A SUPERCOMPUTER. PROJECTED FROM JERRICA’S EARRINGS. EARRING HOLOGRAMS. And the show wasn’t about egos and infighting — it was about four (successful, supportive, ethnically diverse) young women coming together to… solve crimes, or something, I don’t know, it was a long time ago, but they were all in it together. With EARRING HOLOGRAMS.
(As compared to a movie helmed by a team of dudes who didn’t even consult the actual creator of the actual show at any point during production. I predict that if it ends up failing at the box office, it’ll be blamed on the moviegoing public’s lack of interest in female protagonists.)
Realistically, is there any way to create a live-action movie in 2015 that involves supercomputer earrings and holographic rock bands and isn’t completely over the top and ridiculous? Probably not, no. So you don’t try. You make your heartwarming story of a stage-frightened young woman exploring her sense of self in a social media-driven world, and you call it Hannah Montana. If you wouldn’t make an Iron Man movie in which Tony Stark finds and restores a red-and-gold ’68 Camaro and drives it across the Southwest as he tries to find his own identity in the overwhelming shadow of his late father, then keep your damned hands off of my beloved childhood cartoon.
/nerd rage
(We now return you to our regularly scheduled actual feminist programming.)