we owe them our thanks for chipping hard at that glass ceiling and leaving behind art works that, thanks to a book like this, continue to live on.
I was inspired to pick up my camera again after reading this book.
I hope you are, too.
—Rose McGowan
Dear reader,
Thank you for reading this special hardcover edition of my book Backwards and in Heels. A little time has passed since the release of the original paperback version in August of 2017, yet it still excites me to type the words “my book.” Writing has long been a passion of mine, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the chance to see my name on a front cover. Putting this book together meant a lot of work in a few short months, but my belief in supporting women in film kept me going. I feel incredibly lucky to have been given the opportunity.
At the time of the original edition’s release, there was already conversation about women in Hollywood. Newspapers, websites, social media, and blogs covered the lack of female filmmakers and the inequality of pay and opportunities for actresses. Then, a few months before my book was published, came Wonder Woman. This was the first standalone female superhero film released since Iron Man ushered in a new craze for comic book movies in 2008. Directed by Patty Jenkins and starring Gal Gadot, Wonder Woman was considered a risk. Here was a big budget action film with a female protagonist and a female filmmaker. But the movie defied any expectations, becoming the third biggest box office hit of 2017. There was a hunger amongst audiences and critics for a new type of hero. And my heart melted at seeing photos of young girls and young boys dressing up as Wonder Woman. Representation on screen is vastly important.
The success of Wonder Woman was big news, making me feel like my book was coming out at the right time. Though the records the movie set made me wish I could include them. But then came October 2017, and a series of events unfolded which made it vital to both myself and my publisher that we release an updated edition.
On October 5, 2017, The New York Times published an article with the title “Harvey Weinstein Paid Off Sexual Harassment Accusers for Decades.” This was a detailed investigation by Times reporters Jodi Kantor and Megan Twohey, revealing years of alleged sexual harassment, intimidation, and rape at the hands of powerful Hollywood titan Harvey Weinstein. Actresses such as Ashley Judd and Rose McGowan came forward with their stories of the shocking abuse endured from Weinstein. Following their bravery at putting their names in print, a staggering number of A-list actresses decided to talk about their own horrific experiences. And they emboldened many others around the world to do the same.
The hashtag #MeToo spread across social media like wildfire. This movement was created by activist Tarana Burke and pushed by Alyssa Milano on twitter. Women and men shared stories of sexual assault. They spoke up in a show of solidarity and a way to remove any shame from the experience. I can speak on how effective this was, because, Me Too. Talking openly about their assaults also helped the victims take the power back from the people who had abused them. In turn, the Me Too / “Time’s Up” movement led to more investigations by journalists about men in a variety of industries. First came the accusation. Then the denial. Then more accusations. Then the firing. And finally, came the apology. One by one, the titans toppled.
Long before the Times article was released, Rose McGowan had been a force for equality. Over the many years she’s been in Hollywood, Rose has spoken out about men in the film industry abusing their power. I’ve been able to interview Rose a few times in my career, and I can tell you, she is truly an inspiration. Her bravery, the art she creates, and the way she stands up for what she believes in—no matter the backlash—is something to aspire to. I am a proud member of her Rose Army, and I am honored that she agreed to lend her important voice to the foreword of this book.
As to what else you’ll see in this hardcover edition—there’s a new version of my “Future Is Female” chapter, which delves deeper into the timeline around these revelations and the ways Hollywood needs to change in order to stop enabling sexual harassment. It’s also given me the chance to rewrite a few chapters, and to fix the typos which have plagued me since the original release!
The intent of the Backwards and in Heels remains the same. I hope to give you a little look at some of the inspiring women who made incredible achievements throughout the history of American cinema. The stories are short and there are many women not included. But in reading them, I hope it encourages you to help speak up for equality. Because every voice counts.
Hollywood hasn’t always been a boy’s club. It certainly doesn’t need to continue being one.
Hugs,
Alicia x
“After all, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did.
She just did it backwards and in high heels … ” —Ann Richards
When I think back to my childhood growing up in the suburban capital of Canberra, Australia, my memories are patchy at best. My friends sometimes try to remind me of the time when we did this or that together, but all I can do is stare at them blankly. The one thing that really stands out when I think back are the movies.
I remember our house being filled with movies, hundreds of VHS tapes with films my Dad had recorded from the television, piling up in precarious towers in our spare room; my Mum making trips to the local video store to get a weekly supply of movies; the living room with its multiple copies of Leonard Maltin’s Movie Guides; and my bedroom, plastered in film posters. From a young age, I was introduced to the magic that lay within movies, and this ended up transforming my life in so many ways. I would sit transfixed by the screen, watching the glamorous Marilyn Monroe, the icy Hitchcock blondes, and sassy Katharine Hepburn. I loved how these women were powerful, strong, sexy and vulnerable all at once. And sometimes, I related strongly to one of the characters on screen, like the young Liz Taylor in National Velvet at the time I too was obsessed with horses. It’s a very powerful thing to see yourself or someone you would like to be reflected as the hero of a movie. She made me feel like I could do anything. And so, if you had asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up (after ditching the idea of a being an Olympic-level horse rider), my answer would have been, “a film director.” I wanted to create that same type of special magic, including inspiring heroes and fascinating stories that would appeal to future film buffs; to ignite the same love for movies that I had felt. This continued throughout high school, when I challenged myself to learn more and more about the art of cinema. I devoured seven movies a week, read all the books I could get my hands on, and sat in the front row of film class, eagerly hanging on to every word the teacher said.
Then, I decided that my school peers needed to love movies as
much as I did. I started my own Film Club where I elected myself President, transforming a school badge I found on the ground with white-out and a marker to wear as a symbol of my new self-appointed role. I still giggle to think that I called myself “President,” which is not a typically Australian term, especially because all the actual roles at school were “Captain” or “Vice-Captain.” Every week, I would book the screening room at school with a movie of my choice. It was always a classic film. And even though I was painfully shy, I forced myself to get up on stage during school assembly to plead my case as to why everyone should see Citizen Kane. Nobody ever came to my club, and eventually the school Principal asked me not to get up in assembly anymore.
Around this time I also began to create my own videos using