Jessica was objectified, but she was no bunny girl
It remains one of the finest lines in 20th century cinema: “I’m not bad – I’m just drawn that way.” Yet last week the creators of Jessica Rabbit announced that they were reinventing the smouldering Toontown redhead with the improbable bust-to-waist ratio in order to make her “more relevant to today’s culture”.
“Disniacs” have responded angrily. “This is an outrage! The worst Disney decision since they closed Mr Toad’s Wild Ride in Disney World in 1998,” seethed one fan. I forget what Mr Toad’s sins were, although given his propensity for tailored tweeds, flat caps, and oversized camel-toned wool coats, it’s probably something to do with the patriarchy and green male amphibian privilege.
But what about Jessica Rabbit?
She may have been objectified to within an inch of her pneumatic bouncing bosom throughout the 1988 blockbuster Who Framed
Roger Rabbit, but I can’t see that “giving Jessica her own private investigation service” is going to make her more impressive.
After all, this is a woman whose cleavage had the ability to produce a series of violent weaponry – everything from jackhammers and crowbars to bear traps – whenever any perverted weasel got too close.
And surely – when it comes to female empowerment – that’s pretty hard to beat?