In a world drowning in performative activism and corporate girlboss-ness, I find myself returning to one movie that actually gets feminism right: Penny Marshall’s 1992 classic A League of Their Own.
The film does not lecture you. It does not scream about the patriarchy or demand that you affirm anyone’s feelings. Instead, it shows women rolling up their sleeves, stepping onto the baseball diamond, and proving they belong—not because someone owed them a spot, but because they earned it through talent, grit, and sheer stubbornness.
Real Empowerment, No Victimhood Required
Set during World War II, A League of Their Own tells the story of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. With the men off fighting, these women were not waiting for permission or special treatment. They tried out, competed fiercely, and played real baseball in front of skeptical crowds. The movie nails the tension between traditional expectations (“be ladylike!”) and the raw reality of sliding into bases, spitting tobacco, and throwing like you mean it.
The women face ridicule, ridiculous uniforms, and mandatory charm school, yet they respond by getting better at the game. That is the kind of feminism worth celebrating: one that expands opportunity through excellence rather than lowering standards or rewriting rules.
Tom Hanks delivers one of his most quotable performances as Jimmy Dugan, the washed-up, foul-mouthed and drunken manager who starts off dismissive of his new team. He dives into his arsenal of acting skills and proves to one of the greatest/ all encompassing talents to watch. His arc from cynical has-been to proud coach is pure gold, and his legendary “There’s no crying in baseball!” rant remains one of the funniest moments. Hanks does not mansplain or apologize for his initial attitude—he grows because the women force him to see their competence. It is organic character development, not a scripted takedown of toxic masculinity (because clearly there is no such thing!).
The supporting cast is stacked in the most 90s way possible. Madonna as “All the Way” Mae brings swagger and showmanship, and Rosie O’Donnell as Doris provides heart and humor. Watching them now is oddly nostalgic—they were vibrant, funny, and unapologetic without being cringe with the heavy ideological baggage they now adopt. It is a reminder of a time when pop culture could just be fun instead of a constant sermon.
The whole ensemble feels like a genuine team. These characters have flaws, rivalries, and personal stakes, but they are never reduced to their gender or used as props for a message. The feminism emerges naturally from the story: women being capable, competitive, and resilient when given the chance. Not women who think that they are superior to men.
A League of Their Own celebrates women’s strength without tearing down men or pretending biology does not matter on the field (obviously women sports are not as competitive/ popular as men’s and that is OK). It shows sisterhood that includes healthy competition. It acknowledges hardship, (as the whole reasoning behind this team is the separation from loved ones during war) without wallowing in it. It is, thus, extremely patriotic—Most importantly, the women win respect by playing well, not by demanding it (*cough, cough * Women’s USA Soccer Team).
In contrast to today’s discourse, which often frames women as perpetual victims needing protection from “the system,” this movie says: Here is an opportunity—go seize it. And they did. The real AAGPBL players inspired the film, and their legacy still feels refreshing thirty-plus years later.
If more modern feminism looked like the Rockford Peaches—tough, talented, and focused on achievement rather than outrage—I suspect a lot more people would get on board.
Kat’s Musings 