Korri Piper
From the column
Props
(culture, propaganda)
CONTRIBUTOR KORRI PIPER REVIEWS THE POPULAR AMAZON ORIGINAL SERIES THE WILDS
I was raised in a tiny foothill of the Berkshire Mountains in Western Massachusetts. I spent countless hours catapulting myself through those woods. I ran like a white-tailed deer hurdling hunter’s traps, predators, gullies, and poisonous plants. Overcoming that many obstacles daily was exhausting, but it never occurred to me that by age nine, I would suddenly lose my powers.
Every woman will experience the silencing of her voice, fear for her physical person, the shameful objectification of the male gaze. A woman who tells you she’s never experienced such things is either lying or the cerebral dogma is so thick that she cannot see it.
So again, we must consider our influences: enter theatre. At the age of 10 I was introduced to two pieces that changed my life. The first was Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” It was performed at Edith Wharton’s home, The Mount. The faeries literally came out of the woods. I was gobsmacked by the magic of it all and entirely entranced. The second piece was one of the most revelatory moments I’ve experienced in life: Stephen Sondheim’s “Into the Woods.” Someone was brave enough to write ugly music with sharps and flats that truly mirrored life and then ask “What happens after happily ever after?”
There were oodles of books, television, film, theatre, and ads that excited me, made me angry, allowed me to laugh, cry, and provided great catharses. You know this drill because you’ve likely experienced it. Loads of us were required to read “Jane Eyre”, but have you read “Wide Sargasso Sea”? What a perspective flip! How many times and in how many ways can you cage a “bird”?
Fast forward to now. During the onset of the pandemic, two of my daughter’s best guy friends said, “You have to watch ‘The Wilds’ with your mom.” (Sidebar: I heart these two boys dearly. Even more so for understanding us wholly and accurately.)
We watched. I cried. We were impressed. How many topics can one show cover? LGBTQIA+ struggles, athletics and being female, body type, indigenous women in America being “othered”, the horrific loss of a sole parent, sibling rivalry, depression, anxiety, abandonment, parental rejection and absenteeism, addiction, obsession, resource scarcity, suicide, sex, relationships — nearly anything that the modern teen experiences, this show portrays it.
Let’s review the plot. (If you’re not into spoilers, stop reading now). A gaggle of teenage girls are headed for a young women’s retreat in Hawaii. Along the journey their plane crashes in the ocean. They are rendered unconscious and wake on or near an undeveloped island. They work to survive. Interlopers amongst the young women are presumed. The rest of the series plays out like a “Lord of the Flies” whodunit. Eventually, the young women are rescued and placed at a holding center where two FBI agents question them while awaiting their parents’ arrival. This is where they learn that the entirety of the characters’ experiences had been orchestrated through a well-funded social experiment masterminded by an ousted, jaded academic.
Each episode tells the origin story of each character. The timelines jump with the accuracy of a precise mathematical formula. The architect of the “retreat”, Gretchen Klein, poses a theory: “Let’s talk about transitions of power. In patriarchal societies these are typically marked by violence. Resources are lost, blood is shed, often on a grand scale. In contrast we expect our subjects to discover a peaceful female-driven model of governance. The mantle of leadership will be passed as needed and entirely without conflict.”
Her basic theoretical construct (via her own, lived experience) is that men are not ultimately capable of carrying us through impending disaster. If we’re going to hit our mark of escaping the inevitable climate crisis so that society can survive, we cannot do it without women at the helm. Women have the better — nay, the only — capability to see humans through to continued existence.
Okay, questions: 1) Can women lead politically? 2) Is the outcome of female-dominated leadership in commerce feasible? 3) Is Gretchen’s construct more than propaganda itself?
Your answers will likely depend on if you believe women are capable of overcoming trauma. Or, as Leah — arguably our protagonist — states, “There is no crazy, there is only trauma. So, if we’re talking about what happened out there? Then yeah, there was trauma. But being a teenage girl in normal-ass America? That was the real living hell.”
Can women in America navigate and conquer the minefields they traverse daily to become actualized adults capable of a pragmatic leadership style? Of course. If you require evidence, look to the increasing numbers of women leaders in our politics: The Center for American Progress reports that women held 127 seats in Congress in 2019 and surpassed that record with 142 women serving in 2021. For more context, check the world stats from “The Independent”: in the 1980s, 11 women were elected head of state, in the 1990s, that figure grew to 22. Since 2010, 56 women have been elected to lead their nations. So, check ‘yes’ for question #1.
As we’ve seen the temperature in polarized American politics rise, we come to understand it’s not women’s innate inabilities that create the stumbling block, it is actually the perceptions held by the public that manifests the obstacle.
Plenty of books reach through time to reflect on how propaganda bellowed the message that women in groups are powerful and dangerous. You can take those sentiments and recast them as a testament to how strong women are, but in reality, we really haven’t made it that far past witch trials. If you want to understand more historically, or figure out how to change it, read “Forget ‘Having it All’: How America Messed up Motherhood—and How To Fix It” or, “Text Me When You Get Home: The Evolution and Triumph of Modern Female Friendship.”
Why does America demonize women? Why can’t we shatter that highest glass ceiling? Largely because of the intersection of patriarchy and capitalism. If you think that capitalism isn’t dangerous or detrimental to women, kindly provide your argument for why it makes women stronger, better, or more advantaged. If you posit it’s about the opportunity to make money and provide whatever they’d like, then we should probably reconvene after more than 41 Fortune 500 companies have a female CEO. Maybe get to 175 female CEOs and resume the conversation. So, big ‘no’ for question #2.
Later in the series, we discover Gretchen’s son is in prison. She speaks with another visitor waiting to see her son and reflects on his crime:
“He is totally responsible. That’s why I made him plead guilty. But the prison sentence, I wasn’t expecting…You know when Devon was rushing that frat…he called me one night sobbing like a tiny baby after being locked in the trunk of a car. He was victimized by that dog-eat-dog, piss-on-the-weak culture they pedaled. But when it was his turn to dole it out apparently, he jumped to the chance. So, no…I’m not saying he isn’t to blame, but the patriarchy and its institutions sure aren’t innocent. Their allure is still so strong and not getting any less so—even a sweet-hearted kid can get caught up in the perpetual churn.”
We’ve seen this character before—the go-getter mom who is “too much” for her children (“Little Fires Everywhere”), her husband (“The Crown”), or her colleagues (“The Morning Show”). We rarely see that narrative outside of the white voice.
That is one of the elements of “The Wilds” that is so important: it strays from the tired trope of “are you a Carrie, a Samantha, a Charlotte, or a Miranda? You can only pick one, ladies!” “The Wilds” recognizes that not only are women far more nuanced composites of character traits — they are also not all white or cisgender.
So, does “The Wilds” suggest a new way of thinking or being? Maybe it infers that the intrinsic hypocrisy of swapping gender dynamics will only lead us to ruin? (Sidebar: please read “The Power” if you want to think more about this topic. You won’t regret it.) And most importantly, can “The Wilds” resolve the answer to question #3: Is the Dawn of Eve the Twilight of Adam?
It’s a cliffhanger, and so are we. Gals across the country are swapping their heels for crocs at prom. International pop stars like Harry Styles are talking about respecting women and going out in lacy collars and pearls. Major networks are finally putting some production money behind voices that aren’t exclusively white or straight. Things are different — but not enough.
This is the part where money talks: I’ll continue running hard trying to fix these problems in my work life. During my consumer time, I’ll pay for content that begs the above questions to the masses. Bring it on Hulu, Netflix, HBO Max, Disney+, etc. If you’re going to nickel and dime me for subscriptions to content, you might as well pay women writers, directors, actors, and producers to change the face and narrative of the propaganda we all internalize.
Maybe consuming such content will shift us away from toxic masculinity. Maybe it will awaken the innate protective aspect in boys and men rather than the predatory one. Perhaps it will inspire girls and women to take the helm. When we take the powers we cultivated in our individual wilds and amalgamate them, we have the ability to fix the impossible.
For the past 20 years Korri has built a career in writing, marketing, and business operations development. She earned her BA from Florida Southern College in English with a concentration in the Dramatic Arts and her Graduate Certificate from the University of Massachusetts, Boston in the Program for Women in Politics and Public Policy. She also recently received a certificate in Project Management from Cornell because she likes to solve problems. Korri lives in San Francisco with her fantastic husband, stabby cat, forlorn dog, and the world’s most reasonable teenage daughter.
