GLOW: Wrestling with Womanhood
GLOW is a Netflix series that premiered in 2017, characterized by a combination of fact and fiction, with the factual based on the 1986 show the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling (G.L.O.W.). With an unconventional but deeply convincing and talented cast including Alison Brie, Betty Gilpin, Kate Nash, Marc Maron, Sydelle Noel, and Chris Lowell. Created by Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch, the show is best described as a ‘dramedy’ that dramatically presents a group of failing actresses and ordinary women attempting to make a women’s wrestling show with an equally failing director and an inexperienced producer.
However, GLOW is not your average drama and comedy combo. The characters have an indescribable but deeply relatable reality: each of them is undergoing personal dilemmas that define them as well-rounded human beings with triumphs as well as failures. It may be Ruth, with her troubled relationship with her best friend and her deteriorating career as an actress, or Sam, the director with his inability to engage with the actresses alongside the unexpected find-out that he has a daughter from a drunken one-night-stand. Especially the women, underneath the stereotypical characters they play on stage as wrestlers, have very real experiences related to womanhood. Debbie’s struggles as a recent divorcee having to come into terms with the fact that both her husband and best friend betrayed her stand out the most in both seasons.
Betty Gilpin as Debbie “Liberty Belle” | Courtesy of the Hollywood Reporter
Her character on stage as “Liberty Belle”, the quintessential American woman, fighting for freedom and independence mirrors her reality when she has to depend on herself, stranded with a newborn to support. While repairing the broken marriage is an option, when her husband objects to her role in GLOW she decides for herself and the child that the marriage is undeniably over. She takes charge of her own future when she drafts a new contract for herself with the television network and requests to be considered a co-producer. The growth of Debbie as a strong, powerful woman in control is gradual but well-developed across the two seasons. When we see her leave her son in her ex-husband’s care while she travels to Las Vegas for live shows of GLOW the spectator realizes that her independence is complete. Gilpin’s performance is commendable and one of the most noteworthy in the series; the Primetime Emmy nomination for Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Comedy Series was well-deserved.
Another aspect of the show that attracted my attention was the overwhelming structuring and build-up of a feminist framework. The women are limited to a veneer of comedic stereotyping on stage as female wrestlers, but their acting is inspired by daily events and having the ability to orchestrate their own acts makes them even more powerful. The last episode of Season Two manifests this in a compelling way, as Rhonda claims her position as an American citizen with Bash’s help, Cherry returning to stage as an experienced stuntwoman and Ruth earning the GLOW crown despite the injury to her ankle. Most importantly, the solidarity among the women is what is highlighted as they help each other move within and beyond the confines of the ring.
GLOW covers women wrestling with womanhood in almost every aspect imaginable: objectification by men, abortion, being a sex worker, a single mother, a friend, and in the world of Hollywood where (now) countless men are being accused of sexual harassment, what being treated as a sexualized creature that can be taken advantage of entails.
The show and its women remind me of the song “Glow” by Ella Henderson:
“We are fire, we are fire
And our love will burn
The flame will never die
We are brighter, we are brighter
Let’s show ’em how we light up tonight
And we will glow…”
I sign off, eagerly awaiting Season 3 of this incredibly entertaining and thought-provoking show.
P.S. GLOW was cancelled after its third season.
