"Jess, is a classic manic-pixie-dream-girl archetype, but traditionally the manic pixie dream girl’s story is told from a male point of view. Here is a chance to reverse the equation, like those novels that retell The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn from Jim’s P.O.V., or Gone with the Wind from Prissy’s. What is the toll of manic-pixie-dream-girlishness on a woman’s psyche? Is manic pixie dream girlishness merely a function of the hipster male gaze, or is it a form of self-objectification on the manic pixie dream girl’s part? Or is it a form of self-realization, an embrace of bohemian gender stereotype analogous to, say, queer identity politics? These are the questions I’d like to see New Girl examine. The series could represent a radical rethinking of a key contemporary genre. Or there could just be an episode where Jess gets drunk at a party and makes out with her hot model girlfriend, to her three male roommates’ delight."-
Juli Weiner and Bruce Handy (hello? Are those their real names?), the Vanity Fair recappers of The New Girl, which I have actually not watched very much, are the best thing about this show.
It goes on to say this, which may or may not be facetious - I can’t tell, but I do agree:
”I would argue, Bruce, that New Girl is no more from Jess’s perspective than The Iliad is from the perspective of the Trojan Horse. Jess is an empty vessel whose existence is a mere catalyst for change in the lives of the three male roommates, Chad, Brad, and Tad—or whatever. Take the title, New Girl. Already we feel the oppression of the male gaze. Jess is only ‘new’ in the sense that she has just moved into the loft and met the men. Jess was not recently born; her defining characteristic, her ‘newness,’ is true only in the context of her relationship to the roommates. Without the men, she is simply ‘girl’—not even ‘woman’—and even then, she is identified by her biology (lack of male genitalia) and nothing else.”
I just looked again. Bruce Handy? Seriously? Am I twelve, or is that a crazy name?