Happy and entrepreneurial within the “here and now”: the constitution of the neoliberal female ageing subject

ABSTRACT

In this article, I argue that in recent years not only have we witnessed the increasing cultural visibility of ageing women across the Anglo-American cultural landscape, but that this new visibility represents the emergence of a new ideal of ageing female subjecthood. Focusing on Netflix’s hit series Grace and Frankie, I demonstrate how older women are incessantly exhorted to become entrepreneurial, make self-investments, and be happy. Challenging what scholars have described as neoliberalism’s future-oriented temporality, I show that in the case of women in their “third age” a different kind of temporal register—namely the “here and now”—is at play. I contend that the “here and now” operates by both contracting and protracting the present moment, and that through this interplay the new ideal of ageing female subjecthood is made possible. Indeed, the emphasis on the present moment provides the necessary temporal horizon for ageing women to self-invest and become entrepreneurial, while simultaneously inciting them to cultivate endless optimism. Finally, I suggest that the interpellation of older women as happy and entrepreneurial subjects responsible for their own health and well-being conceals the ongoing attack on the welfare state by neoliberal policies in countries like the US and the UK.

KEYWORDS:

• Ageing subjectivity
• older women
• neoliberalism
• temporality
• happiness

Introduction

In contrast to more than a century of cultural marginality and invisibility (Simone De Beauvoir 1996; Josephine Dolan 2013; Betty Friedan 2006; Kathleen M. Woodward 1999; Sadie Wearing 2007), today older women enjoy heightened visibility and are increasingly being portrayed in a positive light in mainstream media. From blockbusters featuring women over 65 and older pursuing exciting adventures, through major newspapers and magazines celebrating older stars such as Helen Mirren and Judy Dench, to best-selling self-help books and personal profiles of women in their 70s and 80s who have become influencers on social media, older women appear in ever-increasing numbers across the cultural landscape as competent, lively, enthusiastic “go-getters.”

Ageing women are not only increasingly visible (Josephine Dolan 2013; Kirsty Fairclough-Isaacs 2014; Deborah Jermyn 2014, 2015, 2020; Deborah Jermyn and Susan Holmes 2015; Anne Jerslev 2018a, 2018b; Melanie Williams 2015), however, but the message conveyed across these many media venues is that they must view their “third age” as an entrepreneurial opportunity. The personal profile of Saramai, who over-night became an Instagram sensation in her sixties, is one of the many examples of this phenomenon: in her posts, she displays her multiple successes as a fashion entrepreneur, while constantly calling on her followers to “celebrate life,” “be grateful” and “get on” with their dreams (Sara Jane Adams n.d.). This mix of positivity and self-realisation in the representation of ageing women can also be seen in the recent comedy Poms (2019), a film featuring Diane Keaton as Martha, an ageing woman dying of cancer who, upon deciding to forego further treatment, moves to a retirement home where she finally fulfils her lifelong dream of starting up a cheerleading squad with her fellow residents. While the squad is initially set up just “to cheer for ourselves,” their positive approach results in their victory at the regional cheerleading competition. The ageing women’s entrepreneurialism in Poms—exhibited through their ability to transform their vulnerability into an opportunity for self-reinvention—intersects with their optimism, creating a feel-good movie.

In this paper I join scholars who have already demonstrated that the flurry of positive representations of ageing in mainstream culture is consistent with neoliberal values (Nicole Asquith 2009; Kim Boudiny 2013; Beatriz Cardona 2008; Barbara L. Marshall and Momin Rahman 2015; Debbie Laliberte Rudman 2006, 2015), arguing that the change in representation of older women is not only linked to the intensification of neoliberal economic policies, but is also intricately tied to the entrenchment of “neoliberal rationality” that reconstitutes subjects according to market metrics (Wendy Brown 2003, 2015; Michel Feher 2009; Wendy Larner 2000; Thomas Lemke 2001; Nikolas Rose 1999; Catherine Rottenberg 2014). Neoliberal rationality is a normative form of reason that directs subjects to act as market actors and constantly incites them to invest in the present moment in order to reap returns in the future. Ageing women are exhorted to create opportunities to optimise various personal qualities and to cultivate a positive outlook on life. They are, in other words, increasingly being interpellated as ideal neoliberal subjects. This, again, is in sharp contrast to their cultural invisibility just a few decades ago.

Through a close examination of Netflix’s longest-running and hugely popular show Grace and Frankie (2015-), featuring two female protagonists in their 80s, I contend that this series helps to expose how a new ideal of the positive and entrepreneurial older woman has emerged. Created by Friends (1994–2004) co-producer Martha Kauffman and Howard J. Morris, the show reunites the former 9 to 5 (1980) comedy film co-stars Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin in the title roles of Grace and Frankie (respectively), two unlikely friends brought together after their husbands announce that they had been romantically involved for the last 20 years and now plan to marry each other. Devastated by their ex-husbands’ decision to leave them in the eighth decade of their lives, the two women ultimately bounce back.

Since airing its first season in 2015, the series has released a new season each year, with the latest and sixth season in 2020. At the time of writing, the series is projected to film its seventh and final season in summer 2021 (Kayla Blanton 2021).¹ While my analysis will discuss episodes from all six seasons, much of the focus will be on the fifth season, which, as I demonstrate, has significantly boosted the series’ popularity. Emphasising the protagonists’ constant self-reinvention through an upbeat storyline, the series can be seen as emblematic of a dominant narrative structure involving older women that is currently permeating popular media.

Indeed, an analysis of the series suggests that neoliberal norms of positivity and entrepreneurship hail older women by inciting them to act through a particular modality of time that emphasises the moment of the “here and now” rather than the more common futuristic neoliberal temporal register (Wendy Brown 2015; Catherine Rottenberg 2017). Constituting a pervasive discursive trope in popular media representations during the past decade (Shir Shimoni 2018), the “here and now” operates by emphasising the present moment as a crucial horizon for ageing women’s self-realisation while also creating a field of affect that compels them to cultivate endless optimism as part of their acceptance of responsibility for their own well-being.

My discussion in this paper begins by revisiting theories that highlight the future-oriented temporal register of neoliberalism, I then provide a thumbnail sketch of my own theoretical framework, before turning to Grace and Frankie where I make two interrelated claims. First, I argue that the exhortation to ‘live in the moment’ operates as a part of neoliberal governance, helping to produce ageing female subjects as “happy” entrepreneurs. By presenting two women in their 80s as its protagonists, the popular series offers a useful opportunity to unpack the complex cultural work that the “here and now” does in urging ageing women to reinvent themselves professionally, affectively and physically, while cultivating a positive outlook.

Next, I show how the “here and now” trope operates by invoking two opposite temporal modalities, which simultaneously contract and protract time. On the one hand, the “here and now” contracts time by inciting older women to speed up the pace according to which they live their lives, and to make decisions by acting intuitively and spontaneously. This temporal formation is powered by the notion that time is limited and passes quickly, thus compelling subjects to seize the day and live each moment to the fullest. On the other hand, the “here and now” discourse also emphasises the present as an end in itself, cast as a moment that stretches without limit. Within this temporal register, concepts such as “it’s never too late” are invoked, inciting subjects to make further investments in the self and perceive these investments as bearing a potential to yield more gains. By delineating how the “here and now” configures the present both as a singular moment and as an unlimited horizon, I posit that it is precisely through the interplay between these two temporalities that older women are being interpellated as happy entrepreneurial subjects.² Finally, after highlighting how the affective imperative to be positive functions in tandem with the “here and now,” I conclude by suggesting that such norms help to deflect responsibility for health and well-being from the state onto individuals, and thereby conceal the erosion of social welfare by neoliberal austerity policies.

Neoliberalism’s different gendered temporalities

My investigation of the “here and now” is situated within the wider question of how neoliberal rationality regulates time in order to produce its ideal subjects. I therefore adopt a Foucauldian understanding of neoliberalism as an art of government that sets out to restructure and regulate every aspect of society through the logics of the market (Wendy Brown 2003, 2015; Michel Foucault, Arnold I. Davidson and Graham Burchell 2008, 131, 145–6; Wendy Larner 2000; Thomas Lemke 2001; Nikolas Rose 1999). As Wendy Larner (2000) and Thomas Lemke (2001) have shown, neoliberal governmentality operates through practices and technologies embedded in diverse realms that shape what Foucault calls “the conduct of conduct” (48) of individuals. Key to Foucault’s theorisation of governmentality, the term “the conduct of conduct” underscores that the governance of individuals operates by regulating individuals’ attitudes, behaviour, and orientation toward the world according to particular political ends.

Following Larner and Lemke, Michel Feher (2009) and Wendy Brown (2015) have delineated the particular techniques through which neoliberalism constitutes subjects, demonstrating how the neoliberal logic of economics and metrics has extended to every domain of life, configuring subjects as human capital. Both argue that subjects are incited to view themselves as a composition of skill sets and capabilities—or as portfolios—so that their behaviours and activities are liable to either increase or decrease their self-worth in the future (Michel Feher 2009, 25; Wendy Brown 2015, 178).

Focusing more specifically on how neoliberal rationality affects women, Catherine Rottenberg (2014, 2017) maintains that the notion of work-family balance has emerged as a new neoliberal feminist ideal, where young aspirational women are encouraged to invest in their professions in the present and postpone maternity for some future date (Catherine Rottenberg 2017, 332). Rottenberg’s analysis elucidates how neoliberal governmentality shapes “the conduct of conduct” in temporal terms, while also underscoring neoliberalism’s orientation toward the future. However, given her focus on young aspirational women, she fails to account for how this temporality may—and as I argue does—shift as women age.

An examination of the series Grace and Frankie in juxtaposition with other mainstream and popular representations of older women reveals that the crucial temporal horizon for self-realisation for ageing subjects is the “here and now.” This, in turn, suggests that the cost-benefit calculus, which contains a clear logic of futurity, becomes less central in the way neoliberal reason produces its ideal ageing female subjects. If neoliberalism encourages young subjects to make decisions in the present that will advance a desired future, ageing subjects are exhorted to make self-investments in the present but these investments are cast as an end rather than a means, and are often framed as fulfilling and enjoyable in and of themselves.

The encouragement to live in the present is, moreover, gendered in particular ways. As scholars such as Rosalind Gill and Christina Scharff (2013) argue, it is women rather than men who are incited to work more on their selves as well as to constantly monitor and regulate their conduct in order to appreciate their worth. Yet, most feminist scholars who have analysed the operation of various technologies of the self under neoliberalism (Sarah Banet-Weiser 2018; Ana Elias, Rosalind Gill and Christina Scharff 2017; Rosalind Gill and Christina Scharff 2013; Rosalind Gill and Shani Orgad 2015, 2017; Catherine Rottenberg 2014, 2017; Christina Scharff 2016, 2017) have typically focused on younger women. Building on this literature as well, I shift the focus to women in their “third age” and how the neoliberal discourse of the “here and now” helps to produce a positive and entrepreneurial ageing female subject.

Politics of visibility

Over the past few years, feminist scholars have argued that the increasing cultural visibility gained by older women over the past decade operates through a confluence of ageist, postfeminist (Sadie Wearing 2007; Imelda Whelehan 2013) and neoliberal discourses (Josephine Dolan 2013; Deborah Jermyn 2015; Jermyn et al. 2015). Jermyn et al. (2015), for example, posit that ageing women are granted new visibility through a dialectic of an affirmative, celebratory rhetoric on the one hand and an ageist, destructive rhetoric on the other. Other scholars have highlighted how the performance of female celebrities as successful ageing women—actors such as Judy Dench (Melanie Williams 2015), Helen Mirren and Meryl Streep (Kirsty Fairclough-Isaacs 2014; Jermyn 2015) and writer Joan Didion (Anne Jerslev 2018b)—is inextricable from their conforming to dominant norms of class, gender and race. These scholars have mostly adopted Jermyn’s and Holmes’ notion of the positive-negative dialectic as the backdrop which has facilitated these older women’s representation.

By contrast, I contend that the exponential rise in the cultural visibility of older women needs to be analysed against another backdrop, namely, that of our current economic and political reality. I therefore draw on cultural critics such as Angela McRobbie 2013, Rosalind Gill and Christina Scharff (2013), Rosalind Gill and Shani Orgad (2015, 2017), Shani Orgad (2019), Catherine Rottenberg (2014, 2017, 2018), and Christina Scharff (2016, 2017) who have, in different contexts, examined how neoliberalism—as an economic agenda and a political rationality—has devolved responsibility onto the individual. I further argue that the positive cultural focus on ageing women and their portrayal as proactive and entrepreneurial must be understood as intricately linked to the entrenchment of neoliberal capitalism with its policies of deregulation and privatisation, on the one hand, and its conception of individuals as potential entrepreneurs, on the other.

My discussion underscores that the constitution of Grace and Frankie as normative neoliberal ageing women operates less through a dichotomous rhetoric and more through particular normative paradigms—namely, “third age” and “successful”, “active” and “healthy” ageing—that have become key to the reconstitution of old age in the past few decades (Chris Gilleard and Paul Higgs 2002). These concepts attribute agency to ageing individuals and are tied to the neoliberalisation of ageing (Shir Shimoni 2018) whereby individuals in their “third age” are called to age successfully by remaining youthful, healthy, productive and self-reliant (Debbie Laliberte Rudman 2015, 11), while conceiving success as a personal choice (Julia Rozanova 2010) as well as a moral and responsible citizenship (Kristi A. Allain and Barbara Marshall 2017).

In what follows, then, I tie my analysis to Anne Jerslev’s (2018a) assessment of Grace and Frankie, where she argues that the two characters epitomise these ideals of normative ageing, but my focus is on the question of how their interpellation as successful “third-agers” is produced temporally.

“Fuck it”

Since its release in 2015, Grace and Frankie has been celebrated by viewers and critics alike for its progressive values, and, more specifically, for visualising an uplifting—and some even say “anti-ageist” (Cecilie Givskov and Line Nybro Petersen 2018)—version of older women. The New York Times averred that with Grace and Frankie, “comedy enters a new age” (Alessandra Stanely 2015), while a review in The Guardian praised it for featuring “[…] veteran actors still in their prime […], creating two unique, multi-dimensional characters of an age that is usually invisible to Hollywood” (Brian Moylen 2015). These paradigmatic reviews reflect that the appraisal of two normatively attractive, straight, white women who constantly exploit their various crises as an opportunity to upgrade themselves is driven by mainstream media’s own neoliberal ideological underpinnings. Indeed, as Sarah Banet-Weiser (2018) highlights, within the capitalist, corporate organisation of mainstream media, cultural visibility is given to figures that are commensurate with market logics, namely, “those that emphasize individual attributes such as confidence, self-esteem and competence as particularly useful for neoliberal self-reliance and capitalist success” (13).

The show’s extraordinary popularity reached an all-time high in its fifth season, (aired in 2019), which opens after Grace’s and Frankie’s dramatic escape from an assisted living facility into which they had been moved by their children. Their rebellious, risk-taking behaviour becomes the season’s theme, captured through the daring—for a popular series—motto “fuck it.” This motto became a popular hashtag on social media while on Etsy it is currently being used to sell a range of merchandise: from “Who Gives a Shit” keyrings to “fuck it” beaded bracelets. The two actors also appeared on The Ellen Show playing a game called “Lily and Jane don’t give a fuck,” while on the season finale of Saturday Night Live a rap ode was dedicated to the show, performed by Pete Davidson and Paul Rudd, who, in a tribute to Grace’s and Frankie’s spirit, decided “not to give a fuck” and admit that their favourite show is not Game of Thrones, but rather Grace and Frankie.³

While Grace’s and Frankie’s “fuck it” motto brought the show’s popularity to a new level, it is also part and parcel of the “here and now” temporal register dominating the entire series. The emphasis on the present informs the series from its opening scene: indeed, the women’s ex-husbands’ decision to marry each other now, after 20 years of being romantically involved, dramatises the importance of the present for all the ageing characters. However, while their ex-husbands’ lives are presented as much less glamorous, the women’s “third act” soon becomes the main storyline and is figured as an adventurous and life-changing phase where they take all sorts of risks. “Fuck it” embodies the “here and now” by encouraging spontaneous yet dramatic actions made on the spur of the moment that are free from deliberating future implications. It underscores that these ageing female protagonists intend to focus on the time they have in the present and make the most of it. Importantly, the “fuck it” motto portrays the two women’s behaviour as rebellious since it undermines the future-oriented temporality by which “rational” people abide. For example, the two’s refusal to welcome caretakers hired by their children denotes Grace’s and Frankie’s dismantling of temporal rules. After dismissing many professional caretakers, Frankie convinces Grace to hire Joan Margaret (Millicent Martin)—once their ex-husbands’ secretary and now a feeble, senile old lady—to be their aide. In the face of their children’s shock and Grace’s own surprise, Frankie explains the rationale behind her idea: “She’s perfect for us … And she won’t make us feel old or slow. And she’s actually older than we are. Isn’t that beautiful?” (Grace and Frankie 2019a).

While Frankie’s words can be perceived as her own ageist disavowal of ageing,⁴ they simultaneously demonstrate a defiance of the dominant future-oriented logic in at least two ways. In her refusal to hire a professional caretaker, Frankie rejects the idea of minimising future risks and chooses instead to immerse herself in the “here and now.” Furthermore, the presence of a caretaker who is both older and slower—as Frankie emphasises—is desired because it ostensibly suspends the protagonists’ own ageing process and, in a sense, disavows the future; Joan Margaret’s presence beside the two main characters highlights that they are still young and in shape.

It is precisely through the practice of the “fuck it” attitude that Grace and Frankie are both presented and constituted as competent ageing women. “Fuck it” signifies their ability to craft a successful trajectory for themselves, where they constantly make self-investments in the present, reinventing themselves emotionally, financially and sexually. Often these various forms of self-reinvention intertwine; for example, after receiving her first vibrator as a goodbye gift from a friend who died of cancer, Grace introduces herself to the pleasures of masturbation at the age of 80. While the death of her friend prompts Grace to “live every moment,” her rediscovered sexuality leads to yet another way to reinvent herself—this time as a successful entrepreneur. Together with Frankie, Grace founds a business of uniquely designed vibrators for older women.⁵

Through managing multi-dimensional investments in the self the two women emerge as skillful entrepreneurs in charge of their own well-being. The positive spirit they maintain, particularly during rough patches, helps to construct the two women as successful entrepreneurial subjects; both Frankie and Grace overcome medical impairments, find new love and transform themselves into admirable figures in their community due to their business successes—and it is precisely this narrative trajectory which underscores that in the case of “third-agers”, being savvy entrepreneurs who make skilled investments is a way of constructing themselves as worthy human capital rather than dependent, frail and thus disposable subjects.

Producing the ideal ageing subject

In contrast to the very first episode called “The End,” where Grace’s and Frankie’s marriages fall apart, the rest of the series depicts the two women as they face a new chapter in their lives. While the episode’s title can be read as denoting the women’s potentially immobilising proximity to “the end,” “the end” seems to motivate and—more importantly—to call upon them to initiate a new beginning.

But this new beginning is linked to a temporal urgency, which manifests itself through the show’s constant reminder that the time these two women have left is limited, and thus the plans they make must be executed swiftly. For example, the two try to take their minds off the impending divorce by attempting to return to the workforce. Their failed attempts to do so highlight that they are elderly and are thus running out of time. Grace is rejected by her daughter who is now the CEO of a cosmetic company that Grace founded and ran for several years. Similarly, Frankie’s attempt to apply for an art teacher’s position at a nursing home is derailed after she is mistakenly identified as a potential resident. Grace’s and Frankie’s failure to re-enter the workforce emphasises the fact that they are too old and are perceived as no longer capable of contributing to the world of productive labour.

Their rejection as potential employees contracts time, as it reminds them that they have less time to live. Since there is not that much time left, the present moment is framed as precious, while underscoring that new opportunities will, of necessity, be highly contingent and uncertain. Yet, precisely because the temporal horizon is cast as limited and the opportunities as diminishing, they are urged to act now: the “here and now” is framed as the ageing subject’s only (however tenuous) chance for self-realisation against the contraction of time. Furthermore, since this present is contingent, in order to optimise her chances to realise herself, the ageing subject is incited to—at once and constantly—seek and create ever more opportunities. And this is precisely what the two protagonists do.

The series dramatises how the two women never capitulate to their temporal anxiety. This is portrayed, for instance, in the third season when their request for a loan is refused and the sceptical young banker tells them: “I don’t think a ten-year loan would be prudent,” (Grace and Frankie 2017a) underscoring just how limited and precarious the prospect of the future is for them, as well as the mere fact that older people are considered a risk particularly when it comes to financial investment. It is these diminishing conditions—where they are perceived as fragile and redundant by many of the people whom they encounter—that prompt Grace and Frankie to entrepreneurialise. The two eventually manage to raise money for their vibrators enterprise, which later leads to yet another successful initiative in the sixth season where they design an automatic toilet seat for seniors. As Frankie tells Grace: “We take an obstacle and we make an opportunity!” (Grace and Frankie 2020a).

The diminution of time thus constitutes an opportunity for these older women. Indeed, health-related risks as well as business gambles are a fundamental part of Grace’s and Frankie’s enterprise of self-enhancement. The women are depicted as endlessly making decisions that potentially endanger their health: they refuse a caregiver and run away from an assisted living home in a golf cart. Moreover, Frankie’s diet of Del Taco and M&Ms in her breakfast cereal does not change despite the doctor’s recommendation following her stroke; Grace is portrayed as an alcoholic, albeit a humorous and relatively harmless one. The series does not ignore the price that the women pay for risking their health; on the contrary, it is incorporated as part of the series’ comic element, while simultaneously intersecting with the temporal narrative of the “here and now”. Their health problems compel Grace and Frankie to seize every moment, and some even become an entrepreneurial opportunity: Grace’s arthritis leads to the vibrator business, and her damaged knee to their automatic toilet venture. Indeed, both of their business ventures have to do with managing unruly ageing bodies. By choosing to embrace risk, Grace and Frankie underscore a shift in the kind of subjectivity ageing women are called upon to craft: from a risk subjectivity associated with decrepitude and frailty (Deborah Lupton 1993)—namely, the fourth age—to an entrepreneurial subjectivity where they are made responsible for taking care of their own needs.

Yet, paradoxically, alongside the contraction of time, the incitement to “live in the present” simultaneously protracts time and configures the present as an unlimited continuity in a way that eclipses the notion of the future. If the mechanism of contraction operates through an avowal of finitude and death, urging the subject to act immediately by reminding her that “the end” is near, the mechanism of protraction operates through a disavowal of the future, of death and the unravelling of chronology. Through protraction of the present moment “more time” is granted for ageing subjects to realise themselves.

This protraction of the present is depicted, for instance, when Frankie fights the officials in the town hall in order to convince them to add more time to the crosswalk light so that elderly pedestrians can safely reach the other side. While Frankie’s endeavour to extend the crosswalk light for older people is shaped as a protest against ageism, it is used to repudiate contraction; this is evident when she yells at the municipal clerk: “You think we don’t see the clock ticking in our heads every day? We don’t need some crosswalk reminding us how little time we have left” (Grace and Frankie 2019a). This repudiation becomes the mainstay of the entire episode, as Frankie’s words emphasise this rejection in a subsequent dialogue with Grace: “We can’t be ruled by numbers. Not the ones people set for us or the ones that we made up for ourselves. Our job is to say ‘fuck it’ to those numbers” (ibid). The “fuck it” motto therefore not only aims to represent the contracted sense of time, but on other occasions also invokes the notion of protracted time. This protraction is reinforced when Grace joins the crosswalk protest and crosses the road as slowly as she possibly can. When the traffic surveyor asks her “You could’ve gone a lot faster, couldn’t you?” Grace vigorously replies: “Maybe. But I’m an 80-year-old woman and I’ve earned the right to take my sweet fucking time” (ibid). Instead of perceiving the present as a fleeting moment that requires immediate action, the protraction of time stretches the present into a continuous moment.

Grace’s words in this scene also describe the stretching of the present moment as bringing pleasure. This, in turn, highlights how the protraction of time contains a powerful affective dimension. Grace’s sense of joy as she crosses the road slowly, to the annoyance of the traffic surveyor, derives less from the prospect of some future return and more from being within the “here and now.” I suggest that this example demonstrates how the “here and now” is permeated with joy and pleasure, which, in turn, reinforce its appeal.

Since the protraction of the present provides a sense of a continuous horizon in which ageing subjects can self-invest, the promise of future benefits does not disappear altogether, but, rather, gets compressed. Simultaneously, because this protracted present is ultimately framed as the most significant and enjoyable moment for ageing individuals, the future is rendered obscure and the ageing process is, at least to a certain degree, disavowed. Thus, even though the future is cast as less relevant, the “here and now” discourse can still produce the possibility of capital appreciation because it is framed as a continuous present. Consequently, there is an obfuscation of the future and a disavowal of old age. The scenes depicting the cross-light protest paradoxically emphasise that Grace and Frankie still have time to live: they are construed as essentially different from the very elderly for whom they fight because they clearly have enough time to cross the street. It thus seems that unlike their fellow elderly friends, who are assisted with wheelchairs and walking sticks, Grace and Frankie are depicted as ageing, rather than old. The protraction of the cross-light is symbolic of the idea that Grace and Frankie still have more time and can pursue further projects in their continuous present. They thus emerge as successful older subjects, who are not only capable of self-care but who are also endlessly entrepreneurial. By juxtaposing the two protagonists with older people who do not seize the day—and thus are not entrepreneurial—the series ascribes to Grace’s and Frankie’s ageing a moral valence.

The importance of the protraction of time to Grace’s and Frankie’s construction as entrepreneurs appears, for example, in an episode from the sixth (and latest) season called “The-One-At-A-Timing” where contraction and protraction are juxtaposed in two scenes. The first scene chronicles how Frankie strives to maintain two romantic relationships simultaneously, unbeknownst to either of her partners. Frankie justifies herself to Grace by invoking the imperative to seize the moment: “We are having the time of our lives, and so I have decided not to choose” (Grace and Frankie 2020b). In a sequence of comic scenes, however, Frankie is seen struggling to manoeuvre the two relationships as one partner unexpectedly comes to visit her just as she is with the other. Frankie’s efforts to condense the two men into the same morning ultimately fail, resulting in her relationships falling apart. In the wake of Frankie’s failure to contract time, the two decide to pitch their automatic toilet invention in front of a panel of investors on the “Shark Tank” television show. This decision is portrayed as yet another breakthrough in the protagonists’ journey, and their dialogue, suffused with a sense of anticipation, ends with the two crying “Let’s do it!” and laughing together as an upbeat tune is played in the background to the words “I got dreams, ya’ll.”

However, as mentioned above, this protraction of the present also works to disavow, at least to some extent, the future. This becomes manifest in the closing scene of the latest season, when Grace moves back in with Frankie after Nick (Peter Gallagher), Grace’s partner,⁶ is arrested on suspicion of committing tax evasion crimes. Grace confesses to Frankie that she feels guilty for being happy about her moving back in with Frankie, since this move has been caused by Nick’s arrest. In response, Frankie tries to cheer up Grace by saying: “Nick is white-collar. In three years he’ll be president. In the meantime, let’s enjoy what we have” (The-One-At-A-Timing 2020). Frankie’s advice ends the season, reflecting not only the recurring orientation toward the “here and now,” but also how the future is constantly suspended and consequently deferred.

Thus, in tandem with the contraction of time, Grace’s and Frankie’s “fuck it” motto is constituted by a seemingly contrary mechanism of protraction. Yet, each modality is dependent on the other: in order for the contraction of time to produce the possibility of capital appreciation, there needs to be protraction that allows for an optimisation of this contraction. Concomitantly, in order to ensure that the protracted present is realised in neoliberal terms—i.e. that time is utilised for incessant self-investment—there needs to be contraction that imposes a constant sense of urgency and contingency.

Present-oriented positivity

While many scholars have already argued that the imperative of positive affect is key for the interpellation of individuals as normative neoliberal subjects (Sara Ahmed 2010; Sam Binkley 2011; Catherine Rottenberg 2014, 2017; Christina Scharff 2016), others have specifically made this claim in relation to ageing subjects (Debbie Laliberte Rudman 2006; Nicole Asquith 2009; Rachael Pack, Carri Hand, Debbie Laliberte Rudman, and Suzanne Huot 2019). Rachael Pack et al, for example, have shown how positivity shapes older people’s beliefs and practices in ways that privilege individual responsibility and independence (Pack et al. 2019, 4–5). Other scholars have similarly highlighted how, as a neoliberal mechanism that normalises ageing subjects, positivity operates through offering promises of continued independence, resonating with the work of Sara Ahmed (2010) who underscores happiness’s attachment to the future since it constitutes “[…] what you get if you follow the right path” (9). These critics address positivity as a future-oriented affective. I, however, suggest that for ageing subjects the imperative to be happy operates through the “here and now.” Grace and Frankie demonstrates that the happiness injunction can and does operate through a present-oriented temporality as well in order to interpellate these subjects as ideal neoliberal entrepreneurial ones.

A manifestation of the happiness injunction through the “here and now” is seen, for example, in season five, which opens after Grace and Frankie escape from their assisted living home and arrive at their old beach house where they discover that it has been sold unbeknownst to them. The scenes depicting the women as they spend a few nights squatting in their already-sold beach house, deprived of their personal belongings as well as medical essentials, are meant to be humorous in various ways—from Grace’s dishevelled look, through Frankie’s dubious attempts to connect the house to electricity, to the sudden arrival of tea pigs (the new owners’ pets) (Grace and Frankie 2019c). The positivity and playfulness of these scenes culminate in Grace’s and Frankie’s decision to throw their first slumber party where they share intimate secrets and celebrate their friendship. Subsequently, after spending a few joyful days together, not only are they seen to overcome physical pain with ease, but they also win their house back. Indeed, at the same time as they attempt to cancel the deal on the house, Grace and Frankie manage to inspire the new house owner, a young pop star named Kareena G (Nicole Richie), to say “fuck it” to her mother and production team, both of whom constantly tell her what to do and pressed her into buying the beach house. It is the 80-year-old women who then encourage Kareena G to start living by her own rules, and to find a place that she truly likes. These scenes of savvy negotiations—that unfold as the two women’s children watch in confusion—are climatic not only because they represent Grace’s and Frankie’s own emancipation from the restraints others have imposed on them, but also because this newfound freedom constitutes a realisation of their “fuck it” ideology with its “here and now” temporality.

The fact that these endeavours are successful and that both Grace and Frankie are portrayed as optimistic helps to ensure that the viewer will perceive them as good—because happy—entrepreneurial subjects (Sam Binkley 2014). Thus, it is not merely that Grace and Frankie are rewarded for their positivity and therefore gain back ownership over their house, but that their constant cultivation of positivity in the “here and now” is part and parcel of what makes them successful.

Conclusion

Grace and Frankie thus perform as successful ageing subjects not because their bodies are well-maintained (as well as conform to Hollywood’s norms of youthful appearance), but because they are able to produce capital in its various forms, including—or perhaps especially—through the transformation of their own selves into human capital. They are able to do so in large part because they orient themselves towards the “here and now.” Yet, the question still remains: why have we witnessed the constitution of this ideal ageing subject now? Josephine Dolan’s (2013) work provides useful insight into why such characters are rendered successful ageing women at this particular historical moment. She argues that in the wake of the global recession of 2008, the paradigm of “successful ageing” has been transformed from a discourse of golden leisured retirement to “a regulatory regime of the body fit to work” (4). Dolan underscores that this paradigmatic shift, taking place in Anglo-Western societies, regulates ageing bodies to keep healthy and fit for work in order to reduce their burden on welfare systems that are increasingly diminishing.

The injunction to remain productive not only facilitates and further legitimates the retrenchment of the welfare state, but has, in recent years, “gained urgency” given the rapid worldwide growth in the number of ageing people relative to the rest of the population. This demographic trend has often been framed as an unprecedented threat to public health and the global economy (see for example World Health Organization 2015; United Nations, Department of Economic and Social Affairs, Population Division 2020). The discourse of threat, alongside “successful ageing” paradigms disclose a growing societal ambivalence toward the ageing population as well as underscore the neoliberal expectation that ageing individuals actively manage their own ageing process and do not become a “burden” on society. It is in this sense that the endless optimism promoted by characters like Grace and Frankie is meant to indicate that they are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves in almost every situation.

It is against this economic, social and political backdrop that the positive mediated representation of ageing subjects needs to be understood. The exhortation that older women age successfully and stay focused on their own self-care neatly aligns with neoliberal policies and austerity measures that have become the norm in countries like the UK and the US (Helen Wood and Beverley Skeggs 2020), where vulnerable publics, including hundreds of thousands of older women (United Nations, Department of Economic and Social Affairs, Population Division 2020) have been left to take care for themselves without pensions or caring institutions to support them (Bernd Brandl and Anne Kildunne 2019; Diane Burns, Luke Cowie, Joe Earle, Peter Folkman, Julie Froud, Paula Hyde, Sukhdev Johal, et al. 2016). Indeed, as many governments have prioritised profit over people, attacking the social safety net, health and well-being have become personal enterprises while older people are compelled to manage their own risks privately and to refrain from demanding or even seeking help from others—whether it be the state, their families or friends.

It is true that Grace and Frankie can hardly be seen to represent the vast majority of elderly people, given their obvious wealth and privilege. Yet the reality of their ageing is still unavoidable and the series dramatises how ageing women, even privileged ones, can be and often are treated as disposable, unless—like Grace and Frankie—they become good entrepreneurial subjects. As Anne Jerslev (2018a) has shown, the series’ portrayal of ageing has been well received among older women. She writes: “even though Grace and Frankie constructs an image of affluent, third-age, ageless ageing, which eschews even the slightest allusion to fourth-age decline, the older female commenters feel they can relate to the show, which handles ‘sensitive issues’ with ‘honesty’ and is ‘completely relevant’” (197). I suggest that it is precisely the neoliberal ideal that Grace and Frankie represent that appeals to an audience, since it offers a fantasy world in which time is suspended and where one can escape the realities accompanying growing older, at least for the moment.

Acknowledgments

I am deeply grateful to Catherine Rottenberg and Neve Gordon for their close reading of earlier drafts of this paper, as well as for the anonymous reviewers for their helpful comments.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Shir Shimoni

Shir Shimoni is a PhD student in the Department of Culture, Media and Creative Industries at King’s College University of London. Her research explores the question of ageing, subjectivity and cultural representation. She has published in the Journal of Aging Studies, and her writing has also appeared in The Conversation; Goldsmiths Press; Al Jazeera; and Ha’aretz. E-mail: [email protected]

Notes

1. The filming of the show’s last season was suspended twice due to the outbreak of Covid-19. While the series is still unfolding and what will ultimately happen to Grace and Frankie remains unknown, the impact of the pandemic has been communicated to fans via mainstream and social media; In April 2020 viewers were invited to watch a Zoom live table read of an episode from season 7 (Grace and Frankie 2020c) and, in November 2020, in her blog Jane Fonda explained the second delay: “[A] long time to wait but, given the age and vulnerability of the 4 leads, it’s best. I’ll be headed into 84 by the time we’re done. Yikes!” (Jane Fonda (blog).

2. While I am not able to develop this point here, it is important to note that by presenting this image of ageing, young and old viewers alike are socialised and encouraged to aspire to a particular kind of older selfhood.

3. Grace and Frankie are marketed here in a particular way. The adoption of the “fuck it” attitude by two hip male superstars like Davidson and Rudd, validates Grace and Frankie as older women who manage their ageing in the right way. This mode of marketing assists their interpellation as successful neoliberal subjects while reflecting how this interpellation operates within the contours of heteronormative patriarchy.

4. Seniors like Joan Margaret appear throughout the series as a counterpoint to Grace and Frankie who are exemplars of successful ageing. Indeed, these other elderly women often feature as fragile seniors in need of the protection of the two feisty women. This juxtaposition emphasises Grace and Frankie as the “right kind” of ageing women unlike the other seniors who are a burden, insinuating that entering such a state is always avoidable.

5. The intersection of sexual reinvention with business entrepreneurship also highlights how the idea of successful ageing is marked by remaining sexually active in the series (see also Stephen Katz and Barbara Marshall 2003).

6. Nick first shows up in the third season (2017) as Grace’s and Frankie’s brazen business competitor who tries to rip off their vibrator patent. From his first appearance Nick is seen to be captivated by Grace, and especially by her business acumen, as he later confesses to her: “I’ve been into you since the second I saw you in my conference room. You’re ballsy, beautiful and don’t suffer fools” (Grace and Frankie 2017b). And while Grace is depicted as struggling with the fact that she is older than Nick, this conflict seems to be resolved, in part, through the notion that Nick is drawn to her because she is so industrious. Thus their relationship ultimately underscores Grace’s successful ageing.