Girls on Film: Redefining "Fangirl"

The term "fangirl" should be innocuous -- a simple description of a girl who is a big fan of something or someone. A person of the female persuasion who loves something beyond basic appreciation, who wears her love and adoration on her sleeve. But over the years it's been awarded with a pesky stigma, a dark cloud that elicits shudders of distaste.

This came about long before Twilight -- back to the earlier days of media when Beatlemania was going strong, when Michael Jackson moonwalked himself into the hearts of crying, shrieking young'ens everywhere. (And let us remember that these included boys as well.) I'll never forget watching a television special on fangirls in my own youth, and wondered why they were shaking, crying, and screaming as if tortured by the sight of McCartney or Lennon hitting the stage in the '60s, or the mere glimpse of Jackson's sparkling glove in the '80s. Some overwhelmed tears might be expected, but not a full-scale mental and emotional meltdown. Not hormones on fire.

Today, it's all about vampires and a certain high school girl ready to give up everything for a young man that sparkles. Tomorrow it will probably be something else. But before another tide hits, we've got to look at this thing called "fangirl."

These days fangirls are a scourge. Whether suffering mental meltdowns or just lining up hours in advance, they're a force most want to avoid. Even their presence at Comic-Con -- an event created for ultimate embodiments of fandom -- is loathed. And if you schedule a New Moon panel alongside an Avatar panel, just be prepared for Internet unrest. I get the distaste for Bella, Edward, and all things Twilight. It's quite far from everyone's cup of tea. But that's sort of the point, isn't it? Aren't comic cons meant for rabid, loyal fandom -- for those who dress up, or think it's perfectly rational to pop a tent and wait for days in order to be first in line? Isn't it meant for those fanatics most people find weird?

Twilight-specific appreciation aside, it's definitely hard to fight for and appreciate fangirl fandom when it hits Beatlemania proportions. While it's great to see young girls feeling inspired and moved by someone else's creations, how they express is sometimes less welcoming then nails on a chalkboard. I myself want to shake some of the girls you see in those YouTube videos who are shrieking and crying and contemplating suicide, or forehead tattoos of allegiance, when something goes well or wrong on TV.

Much of this is caused by adolescent hormones, to be sure, but I'm quite positive we women don't come into this world with an irrational fangirl gene. Whether we were made by an all-powerful God or the many years of evolution, I would bet that fandom isn't a consideration. We must learn the extremes of fandom somewhere, or rather they must. Me, I never went to manic lengths for my fandom. I was content to wallpaper my walls with pictures of Corey Haim in his heyday, or smother my college dorm room in poster-fair shots from Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. No shrieking for this girl.

We need to start remembering that fangirls come in many shapes, sizes, and interests. They're not all the shriekers. But at the same time, we need to also remember that even these girls should have a place in fandom. Absolute fanaticism isn't as strange these days, especially with a handy Internet to bring interested parties together, but there were many, many years where putting on pointy ears and traveling to a convention was considered the top tier of the ludicrous and strange.

That may be the nature of the beast -- once any sort of group gets a definite foothold in society, it must begin the practice of seclusion, but really: The scorn has to die. It's ridiculous that even with the popularity of exuberant fandom, fangirls are mocked for their interests, while something like Fanboys can be seen as an epic quest. Mock the shrieks. Try to culture the Twilight-obsessed with better vamp romances. But don't practice all-encompassing scorn of fangirldom. Or, even worse, question the legitimacy of girls in the fandom realm.

Part of the battle for us fangirls is showing our range, and the interests that make us part of a large and varied community, rather than a drooling pack of hormone-raging savages.

Me, I'm a fangirl for all things cinematically cenetered (of course), for the cult crazy -- from Guy Maddin to David Lynch, for experimental mid-20th century literature, and even a slab of vampiric romance. I won't camp out in a tent for tickets or become a salivating mess, but I will clap and bounce in excitement when I turn on my little Archie Nite Owl ship, or find that really cool piece of memorabilia.

How about you?