Women Directors Are My Freakin’ Obsession
Women directors, yo, they’re out here flipping Hollywood upside down, and I’m totally living for it. I’m slumped on my saggy couch in my tiny Brooklyn apartment, surrounded by empty seltzer cans and a cat who’s pissed I haven’t fed her yet. Last Saturday, I was at this grungy bar in Bushwick, ear-hustling on some film nerds hyping up Greta Gerwig, and it hit me like a rogue subway rat: women directors aren’t just making movies—they’re rewriting the whole game. My coffee’s cold, my hoodie’s got a mystery stain, and I’m typing this like it’s a diary entry for these badass women.
Okay, let’s get real. I’m no film critic—just a chick who gets weepy at movie credits and eats way too much popcorn. But women like Ava DuVernay, Sofia Coppola, and Chloé Zhao? Their films feel like they’re ripped straight from my messy life—awkward, raw, human. Like, I’m still cringing from tripping over a curb outside the bodega yesterday, and their movies make me feel like that’s okay. It’s like they’re saying, “Yo, we’re all a mess sometimes.”
Why Women Directors Are My Whole Vibe
So why am I losing it over women directors? It’s not just some “girl power” thing—though, like, that’s dope too. It’s deeper, personal. I watched Lady Bird in this tiny-ass theater in the Lower East Side, popcorn stuck in my teeth, feeling like Greta Gerwig had snuck into my teenage brain and read my angsty journal. That raw, makes-you-wanna-cry-while-laughing vibe? That’s what women directors do. It’s like when I spilled my iced coffee trying to flirt with a barista last week and had to laugh it off. Total disaster, but I’m still kicking.
Here’s why I’m obsessed with their rise:
- They tell stories that feel like me. Ava DuVernay’s Selma or Patty Jenkins’ Wonder Woman—it’s like they’re pulling thoughts right out of my head.
- They’re smashing the boys’ club. Hollywood’s been dude-city forever, but women like Chloé Zhao with Nomadland are grabbing Oscars and telling the guys to step aside.
- They make me wanna be braver. Seeing them hustle makes me think maybe I could pitch that weird short film idea I’ve been doodling in my journal instead of, like, organizing my spice rack.
My Super Cringe Film Festival Moment
True story: I went to this film festival in Austin last year, thinking I’d be all smooth and “network.” Yeah, total disaster. I was wearing this thrifted blazer that was, like, comically big, holding a warm beer, and trying to sound smart about Moonlight. I totally blanked and called Barry Jenkins “the Moonlight dude” to some hotshot producer’s face. I wanted to yeet myself into the sun. But then I stumbled into this panel with women directors, including Dee Rees talking about Mudbound, and they were so damn real—rejections, self-doubt, the whole mess. I was sitting there, my beer gross and flat, feeling like they were talking straight to me. Like, if they can push through, maybe I can survive my own awkward-ass moments.
Women directors make it okay to be a hot mess. They’re telling stories that feel like my life—clumsy, chaotic, but worth it.
The Numbers Suck, But There’s Hope
Okay, nerd moment. I was scrolling on my phone—procrastinating on laundry, obviously—and saw that women directed only 16% of the top 100 films in 2023. Sixteen percent! That’s, like, crumbs. But it’s better than the 4% from ten years ago, so I guess that’s something. Women like Emerald Fennell (Promising Young Woman) and Jane Campion (The Power of the Dog) are pushing that number up, and I’m cheering like I’m at a dive bar during karaoke night. No wings, though, ‘cause I’m broke.
But, ugh, it’s still maddening. I get so annoyed thinking about how many talented women directors are stuck begging for funding or getting shoved into “cute” indie gigs. Like, why can’t a woman direct the next Avengers? I know Hollywood’s a mess, but come on. It’s a slow grind, but women directors are out here hustling, and I’m their loudest hype woman.
My Half-Assed Tips for Supporting Women Directors
I’m no pro, just a girl with a Netflix addiction and big feelings. But here’s how I try to hype women directors, even if I’m still figuring it out:
- Watch their movies, duh. Binge Barbie (Greta Gerwig), Hustlers (Lorene Scafaria), or Everything Everywhere All At Once (The Daniels, including Kwan). Your couch will love you.
- Talk them up. I’m trying to stop yapping about Tarantino and shout out women directors instead—like, I told my bodega guy about Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Céline Sciamma) yesterday. He was like, “Huh?” but I tried.
- Back indie projects. I tossed $10 at a women-led short on Seed&Spark last month and felt like a movie star.
- Call out the BS. If someone says women directors only make “girly” movies, give ‘em a look and school them. I did this at a bar once. Super awkward, but worth it.
I Was Clueless Once, and I’m Still a Mess
Gotta be real—I didn’t always get why women directors were such a big deal. A few years back, I was like, “A movie’s a movie, who cares who directs it?” Major cringe. Then I watched The Hurt Locker by Kathryn Bigelow, and my brain melted. An action movie that made me cry? What the hell?! That’s when I started paying attention. I still screw up, forget names, mix up who directed what. But every film by a woman director feels like a little nudge to keep learning, keep cheering, keep tripping over my own feet and getting back up.
Wrapping Up My Rant About Women Directors
So, yeah, women directors are my whole damn mood right now, and I’m not sorry. I’m in my messy Brooklyn apartment, my cat’s snoring on my lap, my sink’s a disaster, and I’m just in awe of these women taking on Hollywood. It’s not perfect, and I’m sure as hell not perfect—half this blog was written while eating stale pretzels—but that’s the vibe. Women directors are showing us that messy, real stories are where it’s at, and I’m here for every second of it.
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