question in re [western] female characters

In US/EU television or movies: can you think of any female characters that are genuinely stupid?

I don't mean the dingbat of the screwball comedy, unaware of the 'real world' but savvy about people. I don't mean the so-called dumb blonde (who actually manipulates really rather cunningly to obtain the material goods she desires, when you really take a look at her). The most common form of 'stupid girl' characters I can think of in western media are usually like the bubbleheaded archetype of the daughter in Married... With Children or Chrissy in Three's Company: the kind of person who stands around, helpless, while everyone tries to diffuse the bomb, and at the last second says, "why don't we just unplug it?" and reveals she's been standing next to the outlet for the bomb's timer. Her apparent bubbleheadedness is meant to show she sees the world in simpler terms, and therefore isn't fooled by certain behaviors/appearances that fool everyone else (even as she's otherwise fooled by everything that anyone else finds commonsense).

In a sense, I guess perhaps I'm looking for the female equivalent of the stereotypical 'dumb jock' -- all brawn, no brains, and not even any perceptiveness or flashes of intuition, let alone an ability to see to the (emotional) heart of things. Just plain, well, stupid.

Anyone?

ETA: was on TVTropes (and managed to make it out before dark!) and came across this instance of The Ditz. It's a classic example of what I mean when I say "stupid/airheaded/scatter-brained in some ways, but then shows flashes of insight, intelligence, or some other kind of savvy -- sometimes to deliver an emotional message (usually to one of the main protagonists), sometimes for the sake of a punchline o' irony. In this case, the purpose is the latter (comedic irony):

Rose, confronted by a robber at the front desk of the hotel the girls are running, is too ditzy to even realize that she's being robbed. The robber eventually leaves, with nothing, in frustration. The trope is subverted as Rose immediately calls the police, providing a detailed description of the robber, where he's headed, what kind of car he's driving, etc., ending with "Who is this? Oh, just someone who's not quite as dumb as she appears," much to the delight of the audience. The subversion itself is then subverted as we hear Rose's next line into the phone: "Oh, this is four one one?"

However, when I say "stupid," I mean a character who wouldn't just be unaware s/he is being robbed... but then wouldn't even realize after-the-fact, but would just carry on. Like an extreme of Ignorance is Bliss, perhaps.

in which the dog has a slight flashback

Class-passing: Social Mobility in Film and Popular Culture — Gwendolyn Audrey Foster

The first 6 pages are available as a google books preview. I'd quote more, but I'm not really up to sitting here typing in an excerpt from the book, so instead ( I'll just run a few review-excerpts past you. )

One of the points Foster makes is that class is a self-constructed (or socially-constructed) identity that can flux the way modern media/society will also flux gender. Although she doesn't say it explicitly (or maybe she does; I'm still working my way through the book), there are tells or signals that identify cross-classing in the same way that certain details will signify or indicate cross-gendering.

For some reason, in the middle of reading, I was reminded of the k-dramas I've seen that depict upper-class characters. Setting aside the culturally-loaded (or culturally-specifics) whistles of whether one eats with a fork and knife or eats with chopsticks, what one eats, and how one acts around the dinner table... in nearly every instance of a western-styled dinner table, I've had a strange knee-jerk reaction to the actors behind the characters.

The actors bite their forks.

You can hear the distinct clink of teeth on metal tines, and I can't help but be distantly amused at how this both annoys me to no end, even as it reveals (in me) a certain set of assumptions of what it means to bite a utensil. It's a major signifier -- or so I was taught -- of bad manners, hence, lower-class or less-class. Yet these are actors portraying supposedly top-of-the-heap (wealth-wise) characters, and in many ways, they have all the other trappings of class around them: cloth napkins, complex tableware, multiple courses delivered/eaten separately, and so on... and at the same time, they're displaying (apparently unconsciously) a complete lack of class (that is, table etiquette).

I don't think that double-meaning is intended in the original text, to be honest. I think I'm supposed to see the characters are being the ultimate in cosmopolitan, genteel, upper-class crust; at least, that's what the context appears to be saying. But just as I find myself recoiling whenever a supposedly upper-class character sticks his napkin in his collar (a bib? at the dinner table? are you kidding me?), I do the same when someone lets teeth come down hard on a fork or spoon.

As a result, I find myself reading into the text the sense that these characters are all falsehoods. They're duplicitous, attempting to pass themselves off as classy, when in fact a little detail like this reveals their overall failure to pass as upper-class... even as I intellectually am aware that it's more likely it's the actors playing a role of being wealthy characters (a kind of faux or temporary 'passing' in itself). It's a good chance I'm seeing a signal from the actor's personal backstory that indicates the actor was not raised with these little [western] etiquette rules; this lack of background/personal knowledge means the actor probably isn't aware s/he is signifying clearly the lack. I get that, but it's still hard to avoid making a connection/conclusion per the characters enacted.

Still. Untangling my own upbringing from my reactions to an onscreen story just reminds me all over again that I don't think we can underestimate just how much, as an audience, we infer into and out of a story... even when we're not consciously aware of what's driving our response. The reaction exists all the same.