What does Hollywood have to offer her? Sad to say, it’s more of the same. More often than not, women are relegated to throw-away roles: the Supportive Wife/Girlfriend, the Conniving Bitch, the Damsel in Distress.

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Special report by RJ Keller

1967. My mother, then in her late teens, sat in a darkened theater, awed and enthralled by the spectacle of a Jazz Age woman making her own way in the work place, overcoming body image issues, and generally living her life on her own terms. “Beat the drums,” the heroine sang, “‘cause here comes Thoroughly Modern Millie now.” The drumming came to a sudden halt for my mother shortly before fade-out, however, as Millie--immediately after exposing and taking down a human trafficking ring--murmured these words to her fiancéé: “I don’t want to be your equal anymore. I want to be a woman.”

1983. During the course of two Star Wars movies, Princess Leia stood up to Galactic terrorists, played an integral role in the planning and execution of several key battles for the Rebel Alliance, and generally ran rough-shod over her male counterparts. Imagine, then, my twelve-year-old heart dropping to the sticky theater floor during Return of the Jedi as--immediately after rescuing her frozen boyfriend from the clutches of the evil gangster, Jabba the Hutt--Princess Leia is reduced to mere eye candy by being forced into slavery, wearing that now-infamous gold bikini. Sure, she ends up strangling Jabba before the movie is done…but she’s still wearing that gold bikini! And don’t think I didn’t notice that Carrie Fisher had shrunk several sizes between movies so she could fit into the thing.

2008. Now it’s my daughter's turn to sit in that darkened theater. What does Hollywood have to offer her? Sad to say, it’s more of the same. More often than not, women are relegated to throw-away roles: the Supportive Wife/Girlfriend, the Conniving Bitch, the Damsel in Distress. Meanwhile, the standards for beauty continue to drop…literally. These days a size 6 actress is considered too heavy for a leading role, and celebrity gossip columnists and bloggers spend more time chronicling the ups and downs of an actress’ weight than her performances. It’s no wonder, then, that even the most gifted among these women spend just as much time perfecting their physique as they do their talent.

And don’t think for one minute that my daughter doesn’t notice it.

So when I discovered that Girls Rock--a documentary about a rock 'n roll camp for girls in Portland, Oregon--was playing at my local independent theater, I grabbed my daughter by the hand and made a beeline for the place.

There are 100 girls at the camp. Girls Rock focuses on four of them: 17-year-old Misty arrives fresh from a battle with meth addiction; Laura, 15, struggles with body-image issues (“I just accept that I hate myself”); isolated eight-year-old Amelia’s world revolves around her beloved dog; and Palace, who, at age 7, has a rock 'n roll sneer that rivals Billy Idol’s.

The girls--with varying degrees of musical ability--come to camp with the ostensible goal of forming a band, writing a song, and performing that song for an audience of 750...all in one week. But the camp teaches them to do more than just play music. The mantra here is EMPOWERMENT. They take self-defense classes. They’re taught to embrace their individuality, while working together with the other members of their band. And they’re constantly encouraged not to bottle up their feelings - to LET IT OUT.

They don’t disappoint. Watching their self-confidence emerge and grow as they wail their angst at the top of their lungs (“San Francisco sucks! I don’t want to go there with my mom on her business trips anymore!”) was almost as cathartic for me as it was for them. As one camp counselor says, “You can’t underestimate how it feels to hear your voice echoing through a room.” The occasional use of animated statistics (“The #1 wish of teenage girls: to lose weight.”) might seem gimmicky to some viewers, but they had a big impact on my daughter. And that, of course, is the point.

We can’t sit around and wait for the entertainment industry to change its tune. Forty years from now, they’ll probably still be singing the "you’re not good enough/pretty enough/thin enough" song, complete with backup dancers. We just need to teach our daughters how to wail so loudly that they don’t notice it.


Not playing in a theater near you? Request it here: http://www.girlsrockmovie.com/

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