What's up with That?! Jessica Rabbit, Testosterone, and Sexy Deep Voices

Jessica Rabbit at Manchester Pride 2010

Upon hearing an interview clip of French electro indie band Justice (“joo-steece,” dontcha know) on the radio, I says to Kirstyn I says: “How do French people make it through the day with those voices? I would be so distracted by it!” I mean, come on: French timbre, French enunciation, French pacing—it’s all too good not to drop everything and just listen until your breathing gets all funny and inappropriate.

The discussion that followed went a little something like this:

Kirstyn: When I worked in France, I remember the family I au paired for got a plumber to come round, and it was this really old dude, but his accent was so sexy. So confusing.

Jaclyn: Hah! I think only women are attracted to voices. Although … I guess “sexy women” have husky voices. Which is interesting. Why does a manly voice make women sexier … when for absolutely everything else, it’s the opposite? What’s up with that?!

By “absolutely everything else” I meant body hair, musculature and stature, body language, and even vocabulary (it’s called “sailor mouth” for a reason). If you want to be a stereotypically sexy lass, you’ve got to reek of estrogen—in every physical and behavioral aspect but the voice, apparently. That, it seems, should be manly. Well, maybe not exclusively butch—I get that breathy, innocent-sounding Marilyn Monroe had at least a modicum of sex appeal, too—but it’s definitely one of those traits associated with smoldering temptresses: a deep, raspy set of pipes. 

Please, have no hair on you ladybits and look as young and girlish as possible, but please feel free to have a voice that only high amounts of testosterone, decades of smoking, and advanced age can produce. Seriously, I repeat: What’s up with that?!

My twenty minutes of Internet searching has failed to reveal the reasons for this deep-voiced temptress phenomenon. What it does tell me is that deep-voiced women are more “electable,” as Margaret Thatcher apparently learned on her way to Britain’s top political seat. According to some group of Dutch scientists, consciously lowering your voice can even raise your own belief in yourself as powerful being. Interesting that, isn’t it. Doesn’t the old cliché say men are afraid of powerful women? Last thing they should want to do is bed ’em, then, no?

Maybe when a tight bodice, bright red lips, and glottal sounds combine, it indicates a woman who can take charge in the sexy times department. Is that it?

Obviously, given that both my science and sociology degrees got lost somewhere in the mail, this is all just pure ramblings. And in fact, the Internet keeps telling me that men find high voices more sexually attractive—but is a high pitched, whiny, Valley Girl voice really what anyone wants to hear whilst in the throes of passion?

I guess there needs to be some sort of global poll to determine that, but I say the proof is in the pudding, folks: Kathleen Turner voiced Jessica Rabbit, the sexiest character, cartoon or not, to ever grace the silver screen. And we mustn’t forget, she also played Chandler’s dad.

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Stuff on the Ground

May 8, 2013 — Just off the Royal Mile

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Get the Hell Out of My House: Losing Patience with Dexter Morgan, Walter White, and Their Cronies

It’s not like cheering for the bad guy is a new cinematic trope. Hoping that he or she (but mostly he, of course) eludes capture once again; cheering when anyone threatening his or her continued freedom is taken out—it’s all par for the course. Me, I loved Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid to no end when I was a wee little thing (and so began my love for Paul Newman. Or has it always really just been Butch?). Picture Butch/Paul, riding around on his bicycle to an MOR Burt Bacharach tune, charming the bejeesus out of Sundance’s sweetheart, Etta (and me, and the world).

No one wanted Butch and Sundance to get mowed down in Bolivia, did they? No.

Of course, the fact remains that the real-life Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid (called Harry Alonzo Longabaugh by his mom) were outlawed bandits who terrorized poor helpless bank clerks. History states they never killed anyone, so maybe they really were loveable ruffians with solid consciences. Ones to be cheered for because they really weren’t hurting anyone, now were they? (Except The Man, and damn The Man!). A dubious conclusion, no?

Given the priming my young self underwent in loving cinematic bad-guy protagonists, the following statement might be unexpected: I am so, so tired of caring about the bad guy. Like, exhausted. Having just burned through the meth-fuelled murder romp of Breaking Bad (egomaniacal drug dealer and kingpin) and now heading lightspeed through the meat-cleaver-fuelled murder romp of Dexter (sociopathic serial killer), stopping in between to visit Ryan Gosling’s portrayal of an unfortunate shitbag in The Place Beyond the Pines (small-time bank thief with a bad temper), I can honestly say I’m tired of pulling for cinematic criminals. No matter if they’re played by Ryan Gosling or not.

Without question, nuance in character development has stepped up leagues since the “bad guys wear black, good guys wear white” 1969 world of Butch Cassidy. Arguably, the mixed bag of tricks that comprises every human being—a little bit country, a little bit rock’n’roll—is more skillfully portrayed in current film and television than it ever has been before. But that still doesn’t make me any more willing (*spoiler alert*) to cheer when Dexter’s Season 2 arch-nemesis, Sgt Doakes, is blown up in the season finale, just in the nick of time to ensure Dexter escapes capture by the law, once again.

Deep down even Dexter was pulling for Doakes’s survival. Instead, we were given smithereens.

I get it: mixed feelings—that’s what these shows and films aim at when they hold up a cut-and-dry criminal as their hero. They make you care about them, despite their shortcomings. They make you pull for a mob boss/drug dealer/thief/ psychopath, even while offering a healthy dose of sympathy for these characters’ foils—Dexter’s Sgt Doakes, Walter “Heisenberg” White’s Hank Schrader, Luke (Ryan Gosling)’s Avery (Bradley Cooper). The writers and directors “edgily” dole out the good and bad in for these characters, engendering a love-hate relationship within the viewer. I get it, all right? Nothing is black and white—it’s all shades of grey. We’ve all got many sides.

Dexter takes out murderers who are a menace to society; Walt cooks and sells meth to support his family; Luke robs banks to provide for his newborn son. Ostensibly. These are their excuses for their actions, and they’re also ours.

(from bluchickenninja)

But regardless of the plays on sympathy and morals, all these protagonists—and throw in Tony Soprano (The Sopranos) and Sgt Brody (Homeland), and even Jackie Peyton (Nurse Jackie)—do things that I’m going to go ahead and say most of us wouldn’t be so delighted with in real life. Egotistical, selfish, controlling, two-faced; lying, stealing, maiming, murdering, destroying. Makes for a shortage of sympathy after a certain point.

And maybe that’s it. Like a screw-up cousin who’s asked you to bail him out one too many times—I’m just done. Over it. Over you. Done. Oh, sure you’ve got a heart of gold. Whatever. I can’t take it anymore.

But, then, there’s also this to consider when it comes to today’s revered TV and film criminals:

After Truman Capote got chummy with Dick Hickock and Perry Smith, two drifters who slaughtered a family, to write In Cold Blood, he was reportedly never the same again. Whether it was the criticisms leveled at him following publication (Tom Wolfe called it “pornoviolence”) or whether he was scrambled up after spending so long embroiled in the world of two likely sociopaths, who can really say for sure. Either way, the experience changed him.

After you read In Cold Blood, after you’re given the gory details of the close-range shooting of the Clutter family, you don’t get the warm fuzzies. You don’t think, “Oh neato! Let’s replay that murder scene.” Despite the fact the killers clearly had a hard, hard life and found no sympathy in the cold, cold world, you don’t find yourself hoping for a fortuitous last-minute escape. You also don’t find glee in Capote’s multisensory insight into the hangings of Hickock and Smith. Rather than thrilled or excited, the whole thing makes you feel sick.

After you finish Dexter Season 2, you can pop in the special features disc and troll through an animated version of Dexter’s trophy box, the one with all the blood samples take from his kills. Then you simply select a slide, which then shows a clip of the victim’s murder. Because after all, he’s “everybody’s favourite serial killer,” right? Why not give him a gory encore.

If Truman Capote's nuanced, encompassing, engaged, and engaging portrayal of Hickock and Smith and the Clutter Family was pornoviolence, I do not know the name for the kind of shit we're into now.

That's it. I'ma go watch me some Care Bears.

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Mozarmy Meet-Up: Interview with Julie Hamill

Love Morrissey? Love dancin'? Love gladioli? Love meeting fellow fanatics? Confused about what to do with your second dose of bank holiday weekends? (Oh May, you will insist on spoiling us.) If you're like me, and have sheepishly answered yes to all of these questions, you'll be delighted to learn that the planets have truly aligned to bring all these elements together to create one night of Morrissey lovers' heaven: the Mozarmy meet-up. Julie Hamill, organiser and Mozarmy co-founder reveals all:

Can you explain what the Mozarmy is in a few sentences? How did the whole concept of the Mozarmy come about?

The Mozarmy is a Twitter fan club devoted to all things Morrissey and the Smiths. The whole thing started one night when during a conversation about lyrics with other enthusiasts I suggested we hashtag our tweets #Mozarmy and it quickly caught on, with more and more people around the world joining in and starting conversations in a matter of weeks. [For more FAQ, Julie's blog explains a few things here.]

What kind of an important part do you think social media has played in recent years in bringing likeminded people from fandoms together? Would there be a Mozarmy or a meet-up without Twitter?

I'm sure the Mozarmy could have existed (or even does exist, with many other names!) without Twitter; but the nature of this type of social media has meant that using the hashtag makes it easier to find and follow/converse with other individuals who have similar interests. In this respect, Twitter has played a crucial part in providing the environment for people to form relationships via the vehicle of a hashtag.

There’s also a Mozarmy quiz on Twitter every Friday night. How did that start?

Again, the quiz started because we were all quizzing each other from our own accounts, guess the lyrics, etc. So we set up a dedicated account (@hatfulofharper) to use as a central quiz head office, one place to go every week that's easy to find. It works because people love quizzes, and the beauty of this is that anyone can have a turn at being the host, as winning it guarantees that you can host the next week!

So, the first Mozarmy meet-up takes place on May 26 in Manchester. What can everyone expect from the night?

On the night people can expect a disco, a life sized cardboard cut out of Morrissey to photograph with friends, badges, an audience Q&A with Morrissey collaborators Jonny Bridgwood and Andrew Paresi, a chance to meet Craig Gannon, a quiz and Mozeoke from performer Amy Lamé, more disco, more fun, and of course more mingling (or standing on your own—standard for Mozarmy).

A lot of the special guests are people you’ve interviewed for your Fifteen Minutes With … series. Was it easy to persuade them to come along? Do you think they’ll enjoy being among the über fans kind of atmosphere?

I really think that Andrew, Jonny, Craig and Amy will enjoy the environment and the evening, and I know that they are looking forward to it. After all, they enjoy the music that they contributed to and Amy is an excited fan too (so much so, she wrote a play about it—tickets available!) Morrissey/Smiths fans are respectful, gentle, and kind, very much like our guests.  It will be a mutual pleasure to be in similar company.

There was Smithsfest in March—how is the Mozarmy meet-up going to be different from that?

There will be a similar group of fans in attendance as there was at Smithsfest, but the meet won't have the cultural slant of movies, exhibitions, etc. This is fundamentally a chance for fans to meet other fans that they may have been talking to on Twitter for years, but have never met. It is a celebration of thirty years of Morrissey, the Smiths, the music and a coming together of the fans, just as we do at gigs.

Why Mozarmy and not Smithsarmy? Will there be more of a solo Morrissey flavour to the meet-up, or is it an all-encompassing Smiths/Morrissey extravaganza?

Morrissey is the common denominator of both, and Mozarmy sounds better.  We still go see him, and we love his entire body of work, Smiths and solo work included. We love Johnny Marr too, but Morrissey is kinda special.

As mentioned above, you write a series of interviews with people who have worked with Morrissey and well-known people who happen to be big fans. How did that come about?

A desire to write about what I love was the initial drive, as was my long-standing admiration for a Smiths in Scotland programme/set of interviews I have kept since I was thirteen. And an avid love of the '80s pop bible Smash Hits. But the interviews came about when Mark Nevin said, 'Yes, Julie, I will meet with you!'

Have you encountered any problems from people who aren’t perhaps willing to discuss their time with Morrissey?

I haven't encountered any problems. Everybody has been lovely, even those who have declined have done so with good grace.

Do you have a particularly favourite interview?

I have many favourite interviews, but Clive Langer is a bit of a hero, so meeting him and talking about his work was an entirely great pleasure that I was lucky to experience. I had to write him a letter and the next day I got a text. We met twice for the interview and have since stayed in contact. He's a legend, in the greatest and most respected sense of the word, and kind, kind, kind.

Who would be your ideal interviewee?

Morrissey.  So one day, if you're bored ...

How would you persuade a non-Moz fan to give the guy a try? Do you have a go-to album/song?

I wouldn't try to persuade a non-Moz fan to give him a try. I shouldn't need to. But if I had to, I'd tape their mouths and play 'Now My Heart is Full,' 'I Know it's Gonna Happen Someday', and 'Come Back to Camden' at maximum volume. Following which, I'd force them to watch me flail about to 'William', then set them free, telling them to never speak of this again.

What’s your favourite Morrissey/Smiths-related memory?


Favourite memory is seeing the Smiths at the Glasgow Barrowlands in 1985 and again in 1986. Morrissey at the London Palladium in 2006 and Santa Barbara Bowl in 2002 were also mind blowing.

What’s your favourite flavour of crisps?

I like very flavourful crisps like Worcester Sauce or Marmite. I love to find a 'folded over' one. I like Ready Salted crisps too. I don't like crisps that are 'meat' flavoured. Horrible. Generally speaking though—the chances are, if you offer me a crisp, I'll take it, then ask for your bag.

If Morrissey was to walk into your house right now and say ‘Alright, Julie?’ what would you say?

'Can I have a cuddle now?'

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