Caged and enraged!

‘Bitch Planet’ turns exploitation cinema into feminist satire

Hey gang, welcome to the inaugural installment of “Lady Parts,” a bi-weekly column exploring women’s contributions to culture, entertainment, social justice, and outrage.  

“Girl Gangs…Caged and Enraged!” 

So promises the cover of the best thing I read all year, Kelly Sue DeConnick’s comic book satire “Bitch Planet,” the first five issues of which have been assembled into a handsome trade paperback, “Vol. 1: Extraordinary Machine.”

A send-up of 70s women-in-prison exploitation films, “Bitch Planet” is set in a dystopian future where “Non-Compliant” women are expelled from Earth and condemned to live out the rest of their days on an Auxiliary Compliance Outpost, affectionately nicknamed “Bitch Planet.”

“Non-Compliant” is a purposely-flexible term that can be used to describe a number of unforgiveable infractions, ranging from “Wanton Obesity” to murder. The one unifying characteristic amongst the women is that they in some way threaten to destabilize the white, patriarchal status quo, and, for this egregious crime, they must be banished from society. The comic paints the patriarchy in broad, hyperbolic strokes, but, in the context of a satire, nuance isn’t missed. 

The book introduces us to Marian Collins, a white, jilted housewife banished to Bitch Planet after making threats against her adulterous husband. As the first non-compliant woman given voice in the narrative, readers might reasonably assume Marian is our protagonist. But the book pulls a clever bait-and-switch when Marian is saved from sadistic guards by Kamau Kogo, a badass woman of color and the story’s true hero. With her Afro and her kick-ass fighting skills, Kamau is a natural analogue to Pam Grier, star of many of the Jack Hill-helmed exploitation flicks (“The Big Doll House,” “Foxy Brown”) “Bitch Planet” is subverting. From here on, women of color lead the narrative.

DeConnick (“Pretty Deadly,” “Captain Marvel”) and illustrator Valentine De Landro harness the pulpy, sensationalist tropes of women-in-prison films (sadistic guards, catfights, Sapphic action) to turn an accusatory gaze back on the reader. This is most obvious in the Obligatory Shower Scene. Lesbian lovers Fanny and Renelle put on a show for a peeping guard. They’ve struck a deal with him—they can be physically intimate with each other, and he won’t report them if he is allowed to watch. The arrangement provides a clever way for the prisoners to spread information to other inmates without fear of discovery. 

The guard’s voyeurism doesn’t go unpunished. Kamau breaks through the shower—and, arguably, the fourth wall—and threatens him while he lies helpless on the floor. The issue ends with her crouched over him, brandishing a pipe that seems to extend from between her legs. (DeConnick and De Landro don’t deal in subtlety—phallic symbols abound.) 

In another passage, inmate Penny Rolle stands before a wall of video monitors. On each monitor is a man casting judgment on her for not conforming to his white, slender ideal of womanhood. A large, “wantonly obese” black woman, Penny suffers from a lack of empathy from those around her—be it about her hair, her weight, or her inability to turn the other cheek when confronted. 

Despite constant judgment, Penny is comfortable in her own skin, unafraid of taking up space. Her refusal to see herself through the gaze of others elevates her character above what could have easily been a rote, condescending cliché. 

“I ain’t broke,” she proclaims. “And you bastards ain’t NEVER gonna break me.” This, above all else, is a rallying cry for the women of Bitch Planet. It’s a daring declaration of self-love, a revolutionary statement for all women who are constantly scrutinized, judged, and told they aren’t good enough.  

Vol. 1 of “Bitch Planet” is hilarious, heartbreaking, and scathing in equal measures. It’s the perfect tome to stoke your ire and validate your rage, you shrieking harridans! 

Issue #6 hits stands today, January 6th, 2016. How’s that for synchronicity? To check it out, hit up your local comic book store, or get a digital copy at imagecomics.com.

For more from Claire, read her profile of documentary filmmaker Britni Harris.