Musings on Bimbos
I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but the Bimbo is back, baby! Over the past few years, we have been re-examining the Bimbo, resurrecting her from her Y2K reality hell and inserting her into real discussions of media, trope, feminism… you name it! One need only look at the Blockbuster hit of the past summer, Barbie, to see that the Bimbo is once again gracing our screens. But no discussion of the Bimbo can exist without discussing what makes the Bimbo timeless, as well as how the Bimbo has been relegated to a place of silliness. The Bimbo—like the clown—has proliferated through time and space; shoving her big hair, perky boobs, and baby-voiced laughs into the faces of audiences who have not always appreciated her.
The actors that society recognizes as the funniest are, well, men. But there are also a few comediennes that we revere; female comedians that have become household names. They are often thrown into rom-coms and chick flicks, or maybe there’s a breakthrough film that stars a collection of SNL alums who get the “buddy comedy” treatment once every decade. These women are smart, which is why their humor works. But they also can make jokes like the boys—with extended diarrhea scenes, classic situational tropes of travel gone wrong, and climaxes revolving around: 1) romantic fails, 2) how women can be so mean to each other, but in passive aggressive ways that lead to bigger mishaps or 3) a combination of the two. While it would be hard to argue that any of the comedic actresses of today aren’t absolutely gorgeous; there’s often something about the accepted women of modern comedy that broader society deems a flaw, something that makes them pretty, sure, but certainly no model. Even actresses who do conform to western beauty ideals are often demeaned in the media and tabloids to make their comedy shine (*cough cough* Renee Zellweger is considered fat in Bridget Jones’s Diary???).
These comediennes are not considered Bimbos, and Bimbos are rarely considered comediennes. This means that some of the best comedic actresses of our time have not gotten recognition for their mastery of comedic instruments like outlandish facial contortions; precise utilization of their bodies; the crafting of caricature; and drawing a playful line between being laughed at and being laughed with. Bimbos—both the characters themselves and the actresses who play them—often exist in films that aren’t critically acclaimed. The movies that they star in transcend the genre-specific limitations of romantic comedies or chick flicks, while simultaneously using those tropes to create comedic situations that deal with larger societal issues. Bimbos don’t get to be leading ladies in When Harry met Sally-style movies. They don’t just fall in love, flaws and all. Bimbos cannot exist in a vacuum, or in a world that accepts them. They must be dropped into the “real world” to make the audience understand the ways in which they are not like other girls.
I want to take a small break here, and address the notion of the Clown. Clowns have had a bad run in the media over the course of the last, say, 50 or so years. Whereas historically, the clown was the pitiful victim of societal ills, or the truth teller of such ills who was ridiculed for being the only person who could see them, the Clown has now become the societal ill (thanks John Wayne Gacy). As Paul Bouissac writes in The Semiotics of Clowns and Clowning;
The role of clowns [is] as ritual transgressors of the rules and norms of civil society…
Clowns straddle the red line separating the profane from the sacred. Some of their acts spell out the unmentionable and deconstruct the very basis of our cultural scaffoldings. Clowns even undermine the ground upon which our language and our society rest by revealing their fragility. They bluntly demonstrate the vacuity of the fear attached to the breaking of taboos” (15).
Clowns cake themselves with make-up, forever expressing over-emphasized emotions. They exaggerate elements of their persona through costuming. Clowns place themselves into situations in which they will knowingly face the brunt of ridicule, or mockery, or shame. Clowns are perverse and pitiful. But Clowns are not without agency, and they are actively engaged in building their own identities and utilizing those identities to bring laughs and realizations to audiences. The role of the Clown has always and will always exist, though its power can ebb and flow. Similarly, the Bimbo, also caked in her makeup and exaggerated features, also placing herself in situations in which she knows she will be seen, has become a recurring trope representing many of the same ideas.
So who are our timeless Bimbos? Many would point to Anita Loos’ iconic Lorelei Lee, played by Marilyn Monroe in the 1953 film Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She captures society’s ideas around the Bimbo—vapid, busty, mischievous, shallow—but she is also fearsome to the men around her. A woman who will use her wiles and stops at nothing to attain power is a dangerous woman… no matter how supple or sparkly she is. The men around her (particularly her fiancé’s father and his hired PI) believe that she uses sex and clothes and hair and a babydoll voice to attract the men and the wealth she wants in her life, and should therefore be punished. Lorelei as personified by Marilyn is, of course, an icon. But there are differences between her seemingly shameless capitalist endeavors and the Bimbos of the modern media era, who still engage with commodity, but often will develop less self-involved motivations. Lorelei acts within the confines of the men in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and displays her wits in reaction to the moves of her antagonist. This early representation of the Bimbo in pop culture is anchored to her patriarchal connections and her desire for riches, a concrete difference between her and modern bimbos. This isn’t to say that Bimbos in more contemporaneous films aren’t driven into certain actions by their relationship to a man (spoiler, they are!), but the movies that feature Bimbos now are more focused on a “be yourself” approach than on a “women need some sort of comeuppance if they aren’t in it for true love” kind of moralism.
Later, Bimbos will engage with men and romance, sure, but they will be more invested in the world around them. They will take themselves out of the roles and spaces that are familiar to them and implant themselves firmly in spaces that are more typically occupied by beige, serious, older males. It’s no wonder that two films that heavily play on the Bimbo trope occur on college campuses: Legally Blonde (2001) and The House Bunny (2008). In both films, we see our leads Elle Woods (played by Reese Witherspoon) and Shelley Darling (Anna Faris) respectively, leave the worlds in which they are respected, loved, and allowed to be themselves. They enter into spaces that are not meant for them; where they are ridiculed, and where their hyper-femininity is directly correlated to stupidity. They are forced by those around them into the role of the outcast. Their sexuality is weaponized against them in a variety of ways that are tied to shame and power-imbalances. But, these films also offer up that same sexuality as a powerful tool. What a hard place the Bimbo finds herself in, yet in both films, our beloved Bimbos move through these spaces with grace and also somehow with the distinct ability to create humor. Particularly, the actresses play up the situational humor—which is often written at the characters’ expense—through overindulgent and exaggerated facial expressions, playful vocal fry, and awkward relationships between space and their own bodies. They transform the moment of mockery into a moment of silly empowerment. Take for instance the scene in Legally Blonde where Elle Woods (Reese Witherspoon) teaches Paulette Bonafonté (Jennifer Coolidge) to “bend and snap.” This scene, as written, could absolutely be played in a number of ways—cloyingly sincere, overtly sexy, too goofy—but instead strikes a balance through Coolidge’s masterful body comedy. The audience walks away with a sense of comedy that radiates from the actresses’ performance more-so than the film’s poising of the character as inept. These characters have left their bedazzled worlds of feminine—and therefore, societally futile—knowledge and applied themselves to real, more serious situations. Woods and Darling navigate real-world turmoil, turmoil with consequences and stakes, without sacrificing their very distinct emphasis on the parts of themselves that others see as weakness.
The Bimbo appears humorous by being placed in the “real-world,” but the Bimbo is actually funny because of the way she chooses to act in this world. The Bimbo knows the show she is meant to put on, “what the people want.” Who would want to see Paris and Nicole actually learn how to milk a cow? It’s much better television to see them just thrown into a barn with no instruction. The Bimbo knows that part of the draw for audiences is to see her abused, to see her be a fish out of water. This is a role that she plays, then later manipulates. A prime example of this is Goldie Hawn (frankly one of the best comedic actresses of our time) in her role for Overboard (1987). The conceit of this movie is cruel. No one wants to see a movie about a woman who is practically kidnapped and forced to become the face of unpaid household labor. The movie tries to make this humorous because Joanna Stayton (played by Goldie Hawn)—the woman who falls overboard, hits her head, loses her memory, and is effectively held captive—is a rich, annoying, mean bitch. Her husband has no interest in even finding her! Isn’t that just a hoot!? Yet through Goldie Hawn’s impeccable physical comedy and skillful approach, the character of Stayton is more dynamic than the writing allows, and the movie itself ends up containing more than just a woman’s painful lesson and its consequences. A Bimbo can transform her fate. She will make a farce of herself with joy.
To intimately know what the world sees and to be able to perform it is one thing, but to imbue a sense of humor and lightness to the very specific box that is placed around oneself is another. It’s a skill and it’s impressive. Among the ranks of so many comedy greats, there are a number of women who haven’t always gotten their due, and movies that are still seen as vapid. But the Bimbo is not vapid… she’s just a hot clown!
It’s impossible to talk about the Bimbo in cinema and beyond without seeing and facing how white she is. There’s a limit to what societal ills and pressures humor can expose when it’s only coming from one dominant group. The position of the Clown and the Bimbo are special in that they can move through the world as scapegoats of their own choosing; that they can over-exaggerate and emphasize parts of themselves as a humorous and broad comment on society. The ability to define oneself is something that is precious and yet is absolutely not afforded to a large swath of communities. The Bimbo falls short of full realization, as she can only exist in certain acceptable forms and bodies. When the Bimbo personality type is applied to someone who is not a white, small, cis woman, she becomes another trope entirely; gets called other names. The fine line between the Bimbo and the Whore is that the Bimbo is allowed a knowing wink—she can be in on the joke. And in many ways that allowance comes from her proximity to power. The fantasy and the performance that the audience gets to delve into in the aforementioned films and many others of the same ilk is that with enough charm, perseverance, and shamelessness, you can in fact be yourself and force others to see your worth. It’s a nice fantasy to live in. But, once the screen fades, those of us watching are left to think of the ways that these movies must be fiction. The ways that women are mocked and ridiculed daily; the way that “non-academic” knowledge is denigrated; the way in which women of different backgrounds may never even have access to the spaces in which to explore and perform; the way that laughing can seem like such a small and insignificant act. Which, maybe, means that the role of the Bimbo is working. After all, she is exposing to us the limitations that women—and particularly trans women, fat women, and women of color—still face. Which means we have a ways to go before the Bimbo can be a bimbo for all.
