Graphic by Gill Kwok
Too often in films are women essentialized and treated as sexy props for the male audience member to cast his fantasies upon. Women both on-screen and off-screen are expected to present themselves, at all times, within the limits of what makes men comfortable. When she doesn’t fit within these confines, she is punished and shunned, and her patriarchal-defined womanhood is taken away from her. She becomes horrific when she is of absolutely no use to a man.
Some modern films have attempted to break from these conventions and portray women as a direct threat to men or as beautifully violent, movies like Mitchell Lichenstein’s “Teeth” (2007) and Karyn Kusama’s “Jennifer’s Body” (2009) fit into this category. While I enjoy these films and their female characters, many of them and others that attempt to portray women in these powerful roles still speak heavily to the idea of a succubus or “black widow” being the epitome of evil for a woman. She is still tethered to the male gaze and only becomes unpalatable in the specific scenes where she is harming or emasculating men.
I curated a selection of films that portray women acting out or being subjectively weird: women who find beauty in revenge and death. Recognizing female anger and queerness as being threats to patriarchal ideals and standards, these filmmakers actualize a world that exists outside of those patriarchal standards by expressing their anger or queerness. They speak of their lives, experiences and anger in ways that may be typically ugly, but this ugliness is not un-feminine or non-beautiful. When viewing these films, I ask the audience to consider what their definitions of beauty and femininity are limited by.
“Perfectly Pleasant Decomposition” Dir. Irene Moon (1998) 2:38
I chose to start with this piece because I feel like it sets the tone for the rest of the screening. The disembodied sounds and shots of preserved bones and abstract body parts create a sense of tension and horror, though there is something graceful and almost beautiful about the imagery. Though not directly linked to ideas of womanhood or femininity, this piece immediately introduces the viewer to the idea of body as horror. The intent of having this piece be the premiere of the screening was to set the audience on edge before any clear narrative is introduced.
“If Every Girl Had a Diary” Dir. Sadie Benning (1990) 9:00
The second piece is a sort of video diary by Sadie Benning, a young lesbian woman. The frame transitions between close-up, sometimes overexposed shots of Benning’s face and eyes, and shots of her domestic living space. The piece feels both casual and intimate, confrontational and gracious as Benning describes her struggle for respect and agency as a lesbian. But at no point does Benning try to appease the audience by conforming to the kindness, prettiness and quietness that young girls are expected to take on, even when being disrespected or hurt. Her body is expressive of her anger without feeding into the voyeuristic male gaze; her hand simply tights into a fist and slowly relaxes back into an open pose, for instance. The piece lacks the sense of horror or surrealism that’s integral to the rest of the films in the screening, but is the most direct in calling out the audience on their prejudices, privileges and expectations of womanhood.
“Nocturne” dir. Peggy Ahwesh (1998) 28:12
Content notice: sexual assault
This nonchronological film tells the story of a woman who has killed a man of unknown relation after he assaults her, opening with a scene of her rolling his lifeless body across the grass. Despite the intensity of the situation, the entire film carries a calm, elegant air: Birds chirp as the dead man is rolled to his final resting place, women give each other flowers alongside knives, and floral wallpaper and grand shadows create a sophisticated horror. Even the pacing of the scenes and shots feels relaxed. The initial scene of assault and a later scene of the woman laying with and caressing the lifeless body are both accompanied by voice overs from the woman, both flat-toned and unemotional. Alongside the narrative, Ahwesh utilizes shots of insects, reverse footage, distorted audio, close-up shots, and high contrast to create tension and a sense of disillusionment. This becomes most apparent at the end of the film, when a scene of the woman stabbing the man in the back reveals that the woman has actually stabbed herself, now alone in the room. The lines between reality and fantasy are blurred beyond legibility; the woman is allowed to exist as both a victim and a monster.
“Denn es ist Schön zu Leben [Because It Is Wonderful To Live]” dir. Nathalie Djurberg (2006) 9:44
This animated film opens with a woman awaiting the arrival of a group of fur coated men. The coats are piled into her arms, spilling onto the floor, before the leader of the group, and the owner of the house, escorts the rest of the party throughout various rooms containing shows of conquest, such as the mounted heads of hunted animals and a captured tiger. The group is accompanied by the triumphant tootings of different brass instruments. At the end of a feast of meat and tea, the leader is gifted with a cake, out of which pops a Black woman with long hair and bright pink lips. She’s taken to a room with a large bath and a cage containing other women, all of whom are white. While the Black woman and a curly haired blonde remain trapped in the cage, the rest of the women undress and gather in the bath, luring in the group of men. The film segment ends abruptly, before any actions to escape or enact revenge can occur.
The film subtly relates the captured but loving tiger to the “gifted” Black woman, speaking to the imposed exoticism upon Black femininity. Visuals of conquest and captivity, meat, and indulgence further refer to this issue. While we see the women in this story who resist the desires of the men getting punished for it, the only thing that the women who comply seem to be rewarded with is not being punished; women must choose to pit themselves against other women for the sake of their own safety or comfort. In this film, we see women being “evil” from the perspective of both a man and a woman: she who resists his sexual desires and she who refuses her alliance.
“Difficult Listening Hour” from The Kitchen Presents Two Moon July dir. Laurie Anderson (1986) 4:22
The conclusion to this screening is a vocal and visual performance by Laurie Anderson. The first portion shows Anderson in front of a microphone, telling an anecdote to the camera. Her voice is pitched down and she speaks with emphasis, giving space to each sound within the words she utters. The effect is creepy but lyrical, like the voice of a heart-throb serial killer. Though the story is strange in itself, the piece is less about the words Anderson says and more about the tone and life of her spoken voice — the pitched down voice creating a surreal listening space. The film then transitions into a rendition of her song “O-Superman”; bright spotlights illuminate Anderson’s head or gesturing hand, the hand that takes. The audience is lulled back into a state of comfort through the unusually beautiful and futuristic chords and visuals, thus concluding the viewing experience of the unconventional.