This is the era of the Second Act. To understand where we are, we must look at where we were. In the Golden Age of Hollywood, stars like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford fought viciously against ageism, often resorting to harsh lighting and playing roles decades younger. By the 1980s and 90s, the problem had calcified. A study by the Annenberg School for Communication found that in the top 100 grossing films of 2019, only 13% of protagonists were over 45. But historically, for women, the percentage was often in the single digits.
But a quiet, then thunderous, revolution has been underway. Today, the term "mature woman in entertainment" no longer signals a supporting role in a sweater commercial. It signals power, complexity, sexuality, and a box-office draw that, in many cases, eclipses her younger counterparts. milfs like it big
This woman had a life, lost it to children or marriage, and is clawing it back. The Last Movie Stars (documentary) and films like Tár (Cate Blanchett) explore women at the peak of their power dealing with the consequences of their ambition. Even Barbie touched this nerve via America Ferrera’s monologue, but the true matriarchal grief was felt in Rhea Perlman’s creator-Wise-Barbie. This is the era of the Second Act
Hollywood is finally, begrudgingly, learning to listen. The second act isn't an epilogue. For many of these women, it is the climax. And we are all lucky to have a seat in the theater. By the 1980s and 90s, the problem had calcified
Gone is the damsel. Angela Bassett (65) dove into the Black Panther franchise with a physicality that shames actors half her age. Linda Hamilton returned to Terminator as a grizzled, paranoid, one-armed soldier. These women aren't fighting for a man; they are fighting for the survival of the timeline.
Before the actors could get roles, someone had to write them. Reese Witherspoon (Hello Sunshine) and Nicole Kidman (Blossom Films) realized that waiting for Hollywood to send them great parts at 45 was a fool’s errand. They bought the rights to complex literary novels ( Big Little Lies , The Undoing , Little Fires Everywhere ) and forced the studios to greenlight ensembles of women over 40.
The logic was perverse: Men aged into "gravitas" (think Sean Connery, Robert De Niro). Women aged into "irrelevance." Meryl Streep, perhaps the greatest living actress, famously admitted that after 40, the scripts dried up except for "witches and bitter old harridans." The shift did not happen by accident. It was engineered by a handful of powerhouse women who refused to exit the stage.