By now, if you are a young woman in North America, you’ve probably heard of Lena Dunham. You might not know why you know that name, but it has been circling around you and your friends for the last few months.
“Who is this girl,” you might ask, “and why the hell should I care about her?”
I’ve been asking myself the same thing, so I did a little googling.
Turns out Dunham was born and raised in New York City by two visual artist parents. She went to an independent school with a focus on the arts and then to Oberlin College. At the young age of 26 she has already written, directed, and acted in a number of short films and been featured in some films and tv shows that weren’t hatched from her own brain. Earlier this year she premiered a show on HBO called Girls that centres on four young women fresh out of college and trying not to fuck up while finding their feet in New York City. From what I can tell, most of the backlash to her success has come on the heels of her tv show and the news that she has just signed a $3.5million (yes, MILLION) contract with Random House to write a self-help book.
This is probably the point at which I should fess up and tell you I haven’t actually seen any of Lena Dunham’s work. I haven’t (yet) watched a single episode of Girls, I haven’t seen her award-winning short film Tiny Furniture (despite having ready access to it on Netflix), and I don’t plan on buying her forthcoming book. For me, the true entertainment value of Lena Dunham is nothing the woman herself is doing, but rather watching people yell themselves hoarse either lambasting or staunchly defending her success.
I first became intrigued by the Lena Effect(™) while keeping up with a blog I follow, 20 Nothings. The blogger did an entire series on her impressions of Girls, battling with each episode between her desire to support this young, talented woman and not connecting with the subject matter in any way. She ultimately gave up on the show, citing a difference in perspective as the culprit preventing her from enjoying it, but not before she laid bare every painful and uncomfortable scene the first season offered.
Then the articles and word of mouth started.
There was a two-week period when I couldn’t go to any social engagement without someone bringing up this show and how wonderful it was. Friends who knew me well were surprised when I said I hadn’t seen any episodes – partially because it seems like something I’d like, and also because one episode ends with a dance scene to a Robyn song, an artist I’m known to be particularly zealous about. But still I had to confess that no, I hadn’t scene any part of Lena Dunham’s work (well, except for the Robyn scene).
In one day two articles found their way to me. One, a brief but snarky snippet informing the huddled internet masses of Ms. Dunham’s book deal, the other a puffed up defense of Dunham and her success, entitled “Why Should a Successful Young Woman Have to Apologize for it?”. Judging from these articles and, more importantly, their comments, people have a lot of feelings on this issue.
And then I realized: Lena Dunham is the new It Girl. It’s hard to see because she’s not a bombshell, or an ingenue, or even an actress, really. She is a writer, director, creator and yes, an actor. She blogs and tweets and has turned a lot of heads with the things she’s come up with to date. For whatever reason the powers that be have tapped her as someone to pay attention to, and because of that she has also become a topic of discussion and analysis. Even I, who has had very little exposure to Dunham and her work, feel the need to weigh in, and it is this that I find most fascinating about this woman – not her writing or direction or performances, but the fervour with which people feel the need to comment on all of it. These days it seems like you’re nobody ’till somebody scrutinizes you.
So how do you solve a problem like Lena Dunham? My guess is, you don’t – you just sit back with some popcorn and watch it all happen.
Thoughts & Musings 