V-Gram 36

May 18, 1996

"Mrs. Miniver" to Ms. Ireland

One's first thought while watching this 1942 flower about an English village before and during the early days of World War II is that the cinema, indeed, used to be an art form. It was able to convey eternal truths about human nature. It could create characters who represented both what we are and what we'd wish to be. It communicated fear and despair without hysteria; the terror of war without blood and gore; passion and love without the sound and fury. It was, in other words, Art.

Subsequent thoughts focused on the women in the film, portrayed with incomparable loveliness, strength, wit and wisdom by Greer Garson and Teresa Wright. Where was the disparagement, degradation and oppression of women Feminists speak about incessantly? Without a single lecture unleashed on the viewer, the women in "Mrs. Miniver" (including the grumpy old Baroness) had to be admired, respected and - now the key word - loved.

Affirmative Action, frivolous law suits, gender-conscious speech codes and enforced behavior control may delude women for the time being. But the appearance of a gain has been paid for by possibly irreversible losses. Who will love Thelma and Louise? Or the embittered high-school girls and miserable "heroines" of the obligatory Sunday-night network cry-ins? As for respect and admiration - kicking, punching and spouting obscenities won't do it. Members of NOW: take a look at Mrs. Miniver.