As a critic and feminist, I don't like being told I will have to love this movie by default because it's led by a strong female character. And I am not alone. The pop culture writer Kat Rosenfield said in a tweet, "I wish some of the Captain Marvel hyper-uppers would slow their roll just a liiiiittle bit on the idea that little girls have been twiddling their thumbs since the dawn of time, waiting for the arrival of a Lady Superhero who they can Finally Relate To."
Last year, Larson made headlines when she called for more diversity in criticism after a USC Annenberg study showed the profession to skew mostly white and male. It was a welcome call to action for some, but for others, it was a logical fallacy.
More female critics in the field would not necessarily translate to better reviews for women-centric films. Women, like men, don't always share the same opinions. Gender is not the only lens through which we watch movies.
If a movie's bad or doesn't work, it's a critic's job to say so. Within hours of the first reviews of Captain Marvel, commentators had drawn attention to the ongoing gender imbalance, but less helpful was the scrutinising of female critics who had something less than positive to say about the film, and harassment by the movie's fans soon followed.
I'm sure Marvel Entertainment and its parent company, Disney, are watching the social media and audience reactions just as closely as box-office numbers. The rallying cry to buy tickets so more movies about female superheroes are made is music to the bottom line. The studios have found a mini-goldmine in maintaining the scarcity that leaves viewers with less diverse options.
The burden has been on nonwhite and non-male audiences to prove they can sell out screenings for movies like Black Panther and Crazy Rich Asians.
One tactic Hollywood has used to justify the exclusion of women and other underrepresented groups is to label their projects a risk. There are old studio adages that men won't see movies about women, or that films starring people of colour don't do well abroad. These myths have been disproved time and again — women-centric comedies like Mean Girls and Bridesmaids showed there were audiences for these movies, and black actors like Will Smith and Eddie Murphy reigned at the box office through the '90s and '80s.
Black Panther took on that tired excuse with its over $1.3 billion global box office, but it's too early to tell yet if that success will translate into more opportunities for other directors of colour to lead movies with a diverse cast and sizable budget.
The reality is that all films are risks. Even a director like Steven Spielberg or a star like Tom Cruise isn't a surefire bet that a movie will be a success.
Not every movie by a director from an underrepresented background or featuring a strong woman needs to be an Oscar-winner or the biggest box-office hit in history for the movement toward parity to be a success.
Untold stories should get the chance to be seen sooner rather than never; and moviegoers should be able to go to the theatre without feeling the need to "represent" in a rigged system.
