So this is my first time blogging ever, hence the title and Madonna reference. Madonna is appropriate, let’s talk about femme fatales, shall we?I get the appeal, I really do. Sexy, smart, alluring, dangerous, volatile, a smattering of all-American and mysterious. What’s not to get excited about? We love Laura Croft, every other Angelina Jolie role, and we dreamily watched Rebecca Romijn force a bad accent while hypnotizing us with her nudity. I dare any prude to deny the inherent connection between sex/sexuality and danger/violence–basically anything else blood-pumping/primal/base. In the battle of the sexes, Janet is a worthy opponent for bouncing back innuendo and suggestion, and she’s a hell of a lot more attractive than Jeff. And any other woman is not strong enough to carry the title of leading lady. The femme fatale is a much more appealing conquest than the shy, simpering woman. I use woman in italics to conjure the stereotypes assigned to our weaker, melodramatic but always bend-over-and-take-it sex. Opal, Mrs. Mathews, Lee, etc.
Janet Henry is no doubt the better match to Ned Beaumont’s waiting cigar. Her fatale-like persona identifies with Ned’s fatalist streak. She’s a gamble, the fiance of his best friend, a tall drink of whiskey that cuts its eyes at an alcoholic. She’s a reckless and dangerous choice, a blond angel in devil’s clothes. But it isn’t just the leading men that fall for the fatale — we all do. Perhaps she plays into our latent addictions, desires, aspirations. She’s a somehow surprising model for women in 1940’s Hollywood. She’s not the double-crossing Delilah kind of strong, but something desirable, admirable. She’ll slap you in the face (if you’re into that sort of thing) and be a perfectly ladylike hostess.
So it can be said that most men (I will here apologize for any inadvertent blanket statements) undoubtedly prefer the fatale, the leading lady. This phenomena is something like a man(knight on horse, iron fist with fluffy nougat center, door-opener, bread-winner, etc etc) that has a vagina to boot! The fatale is a man-like, sex-craving, siren creature that can also totter about in stilettos. Who isn’t attracted to the femme fatale? We all love her, men and women alike. So what does this teach us? Exactly, everyone is gay.
Just kidding. Not quite sure what I said, or if it’s of any importance, but I said it….