Surely, we think, these characters (all portrayed, in her usual manner, by the artist herself in large, crisp cibachrome prints) must know that the “beauty” which society proscribes has now eluded them for good. What was once purchasable through consumer products and fashion is gone, leaving these women almost clownlike in their continuation of the same manner of dress and appearance.

A superficial read of these might be to question the artist’s sincerity: perhaps the point here is ridicule. But a stronger feminist subtext surfaces: the dignity that these women carry in their arrived-upon looks might actually reflect a self-satisfaction that betrays consumerist notions of beauty. There may be a defiance here, an embracement of maintaining their “look” in conscious opposition to what society ordains as attractive. These then become potent icons of feminism, as political as they are poetic.

This vibrant and engaging exhibit brings a viewer to pause over one consideration; after a lackluster 1997 mid-career survey at the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary art, Cindy Sherman may not be the one who needs a critical reassessment. Perhaps the curatorial department of MOCA was more responsible for the dull predictability of that sonambulatory nonevent. But the past is the past, if that survey and the seal of approval it provided was the impetus for this body of work, then it is just a case for Lenin and one step backwards preparing for two steps forward. Except here, Cindy Sherman is taken about a hundred steps—and all ahead of the pack!