Showing posts with label Feminism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Feminism. Show all posts

Sunday, June 1, 2025

The Films of Julia Ducournau: An Introduction

 


            Director Julia Ducournau has become synonymous with the “feminist body horror” genre. By pioneering the idea of the horrors of femininity, without the loss of agency and autonomy for her subjects, has elevated Ducournau as a premiere auteur of indie filmmaking. Each of her three films to date have pushed the boundaries of expectation, understanding and taste. Boundary breaking, and at times, culturally caustic, Ducournau’s filmography challenges cinephiles through a lack of narrative conventions and a simultaneous allegorical richness, which requires repeat viewing. Whether her subjects be a vegetarian vet with a penchant for cannibalism, a nonbinary, gender-fluid serial killer with objectophilia for automobiles, or a self-destructive teen during a postapocalyptic future brought on by a pandemic with statuesque virulence, there is absurdity, and an unconventional construction of tone, plot and character to Ducournau’s films that is as refreshing as it is grotesque. Therefore, Julia Ducournau is the subject of my next director series that is sure to push the boundaries of conventional cinematic language into something beyond.

 

BREIF BACKGROUND      

Birthed from a gynecologist mother and a dermatologist father, on November 18th 1983, it is unsurprising that Julia Ducournau’s filmmaking trajectory is both within and guided by the body horror subgenre. While not “in her blood” as many who would use a biologically deterministic argument to explain how the award-winning director got her initial inspiration, it stands to sociologically reason that her parent’s careers, through the process of socialization, would have an indelible impact on their daughter. Given Ducournau’s films, the similarities between what is often the film’s subject and the expertise of her parents, there is little denying their influence. Ducournau cites their candid and direct discussions about the body and death led her to be fascinated with the flesh, consciousness, and the way that the body could be manipulated. This fascination became crystalized when Ducournau went to film school.  

Studying film and screenwriting at the prestigious La Femis, Durcournau’s auteristic tenure has been met with wide acclaim and critical success. The second female (cis or trans) to win the directing Palme d’Or at the CANNES film festival (behind Jane Campion for The Piano) her work has been described as revelatory, uncompromising, thrillingly provocative, with visuals that many find disturbingly erotic. Durcournau’s richly sparse trilogy of films has always been something to watch. Given the general acceptance of her films by cinephile critics, Durcournau’s latest venture, Alpha, has become one of the more anticipated films screened at Cannes in 2025, to the point of myths arising around the film that are akin to Freidkin’s The Exorcist. Yet, as of this writing, early reviews out of the festival seem to be the harbinger of mediocrity for Ducournau; the most scathing coming from artistically anarchic auteur apologist and cinephile champion critic David Ehrlich of Indiewire calling the film both “dour and dismal”. Thus, with her most recent feature, Ducournau may be beginning to experience the missteps and disparagement that inevitably accompanies artistic expression.       

 Ducournau’s inspirations have been cited as Lynchingly Cronenbergian with a sprinkling of Shelly and Poe. Ducournau uses both a command of the camera, including an eclectic series of shots, techniques and storyboards to crystalize this amalgamistic aesthetic of tone and style.  The body horror aspects of Ducournau’s feature length directorial triptych: Raw, Titane, and Alpha, can easily be laid at the feet of early Cronenberg (VideoDrome, The Fly) while the twisting reveals, and often radical shifts in composition, lighting, narrative and tone are positively Lynchian; specifically, The Elephant Man.  Because of these influences, Ducournau’s films are difficult to describe, but easy to spot, given the audience reactions to them out of context. “She ate him?” (Raw) “Did she just fuck a car?” (Titane) “Is she turning to stone?” (Alpha). Allegorically artistic, Ducournau channels those influences into a consistent expression of the horrors of the female body.  

 


THEMES

            In looking at Ducournau’s brief filmography there is a level of thematic consistency in her work. Coming from a desire to make genre films that blossom from reality, Ducournau understands that we draw from the world around us for inspiration and to say something about our everyday lives. However, she has also indicated that her films should not be pigeonholed into a political pamphlet.

This apolitical stance of filmmakers is common. It is often born out of a desire to maximize revenue and profit the most off of their art by a reluctance to produce anything that would be perceived as politically polarizing, or more artistically, allows the audience the freedom to interpret the filmmaker’s art independently, in their own way. This is understandable, even refreshing, but ultimately impossible, and often perceived as a cop out. Because film is a social and cultural product, it reflects both the time-period and the individuals that the film is telling stories about. This relatability is key. So, that even films set in the most fantastical world can still say something about the world we live in today.  The personal is political, as film is socio-cultural, regardless of the filmmaker’s economic or artistic intensions. Thus, if a socio-cultural and political stance is going to be presumably applied to the film anyway, filmmakers should make their intensions known, so that they are not misconstrued and their art is not misinterpreted and used in ways that do not align with the artist’s beliefs. However, intension is not a requirement for thematic embodiment, as with Ducournau’s filmography, there is an audience projection of themes that are present when consuming her art; specifically, those of feminism and body autonomy.      

            Feminism and body autonomy

            One of the many struggles that female directors face, in addition to the consistent misogyny brought on by the historical patriarchal exclusion and invisibility of women in such a creative and authoritative position, is the assumption that everything that director produces is perceived as feminist. A person’s genitalia, their sex assignment at birth, or their gender identity should never assume a political ideology, even as one as generalized and tepid as equity and equality for all women. Yet, unfortunately, anything a female director produces, there are attempts to politically commodify it and use their work to make a broader point[1], regardless of if it fits.

            Ducournau’s trilogy of films, carries with it a clear fascination and understanding of the female body. In an interview with The Independent, Ducournau has stated that women “…  have to accept some parts of us that are hard to watch, hard to acknowledge because it’s in us, because it’s scary.”. For her, from the embrace of the monstrous can result in emancipatory liberation, whether that be through cannibalism, objectophelic gender fluidity, or statuesque virulence. This is because of the contrast of the female monstrous body in comparison to its often-misogynistic sexualization, and a deification of the female body through the process of childbirth often projects a reference for the female body that has been mythologized. For Ducournau, by rejecting this understanding of the female body is to also reject a heavenly invoked gilded cage of patriarchy’s design. Instead, by embracing the utility and practicality of female bodies we can see their central power that is often obfuscated by the soft aesthetic that is applied to them. Ducournau’s films tear away at that façade and embraces the grimy grotesqueries of girlhood as their emotional prism of empowerment outside of the patriarchal structures that seek to control them.

            Because of Ducournau’s focus on depicting the often-literal deconstruction of the female body, much of the forthcoming analysis will be pulled from many post structural philosophers, feminists and sociological scholars. The central works of Michel Foucault, Judith Butler, Julia Kristeva, bell hooks, and Nancy Frasier may be used or make an appearance in the reference list of each film’s criticism. The link between body and identity, their mutual transformation and expression that Ducournau depicts on screen, shall be peered through this academic lens.   

           


CONCLUSION

            The modern body horror genre would not be as rich and vibrant without the work of Julia Ducournau. She challenges the way that we see and understand the female form. Through the embrace of the grotesque and its application to the female body, we can help to break out of the cultural misogyny of the near innate sexualization that objectifies and strips girls from the transformative power that they hold within themselves.



[1]  Like this blog and podcast


Sunday, March 9, 2025

The Films of Celine Sciamma: A Portrait of a Lady on Fire



                The fourth film in my analysis of The Films of Celine Sciamma is the sapphic period drama A Portrait of a Lady on Fire. The first film of Sciamma’s career, which isn’t placed in a modern context, is also the film with the most thematic depth and cinematic nuance, where the command of her craft is on full display. Sciamma crystalizes in celluloid the thought, themes, and philosophy that encapsulates her vision as an auteur.  Yet, when taking a critical sociological perspective to Sciamma’s most celebrated work to date, we see the cracks in the acrylic that are caked on the canvas. In fact, through this lens, some of the noted and praiseworthy aspects of the film may be reevaluated; an unfortunate sociological turpentine that dissolves the heavily lauded art on screen.

 


PLOT

Marianne (Moemie Merlant) a 1770’s French painter is called to Brittany, France to paint the portrait of a Noble woman’s daughter, Heloise (Adele Haenel). The portrait is designed to entice a Noble man to marry her client’s progeny. However, because Heloise is resistant to the chattel marriage that she has been thrust into by the suicide of her older sister, the painting must be drawn in secret. As Marianne and Heloise get closer, the objective artist’s gaze turns romantic and is reciprocated. Every day, as the painting becomes closer to being finished, so too is their precociously perennial passion endangered of being snuffed out by time, class status and circumstance.

 

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

            In both the production of A Portrait of a Lady on Fire and the period it is supposed to represent, there are liberties and contrivances that allow for a more modern/postmodern interpretation outside of the conventions of the context depicted. Granted, Sciamma and painting consultant Helene Delmaire, mined history to construct the amalgamated backstory of Marianne, giving her the blended narrative flavor of many female painters of the 1770’s. Still, the whole conceit of the film is in and of itself a respite from the patriarchy, which by design, allows for a more contemporary perspective. Thus, in addition to deploying her pioneered “female gaze” in the picture, Sciamma makes a period film feel contemporary, at the same time, giving historical legitimacy to the anachronisms she adds.

            Production

            Principal Photography for A Portrait of a Lady on Fire occurred in the Fall of 2018, taking only 38 days. Shot entirely on location at Saint-Pierre-Quiberon in Brittany and a château in La Chapelle-Gauthier, Seine-et-Marne; the film embodies the realities of aristocratic life of the time. In vacant hallways and empty rooms, Sciamma and Cinematographer Claire Mathon tangibly render the differences between class status and wealth.

In most (improper) cinematic depictions of the aristocracy, be they English or French, there is a level of opulence that was uncharacteristic of the time[1]. This specific anachronism is more a product of illustrating class struggles, particularly the chasmic gulf between the rich and the poor, almost by a one-to-one comparison. The rich are lavishly dressed and well fed, with gluttonous amounts of food prepared in an assortment of feasts for no actual occasion other than the whims of the ruling royals. Sciamma dispenses with the glitz, glamour and lavishness of an irreconcilable fantasy of familial nobility; indicating through the subtle barrenness of the Chateau, and the sacredness of the green dress for the portrait, that while the family (and their name) still holds esteem and social capital value,[2] they are also poor.  Thus, they use chattel marriage as a necessary way out of destitution.  



   

            In the film, this distinction is vocalized in an argument between Marianne and Heloise:

            Heloise: You blame me for what comes next…My Marriage. You don’t support me.

            Marianne: You are right.

            Heloise: Go on. Say what burdens your heart. I believed you braver.

             Marianne: I believed you were braver, too.

            Heloise: That’s it then. You find me docile. Worse. You imagine me collusive. You imagine my pleasure

            Marianne: It is a way of avoiding hope.

            Heloise: Imagine me Happy or Unhappy if that reassures you. But do not imagine me guilty. You prefer I resist?

            Marianne: Yes.

            Heloise: Are you asking me to? Answer Me!

            Marianne: No.  

This conversation is further punctuated by the freedom Marianne has as a painter because she inherited her father’s business. It affords her the choice to be married or not; something that Heloise points out is a luxury she does not have after her sister’s suicide. It is this sense of and taste of freedom that Marianne both represents and provides Heloise which she first finds attractive; a status that she cannot achieve but through this brief respite.




            Rather than shoot on film, Sciamma and Mathon chose to photograph using 8k cameras, to give the film an overexposed look. In an interview with The Criterion Collection, Sciamma states that this hyperclarity was important to the intimacy of the film and the overall tenderness between the actors. According to Sciamma, skin, and the capturing of its shades and textures were so important to the film, that it needed to have a bold sharpness that would accentuate the subtle nuances of light, shadow, costume and movement. Mathon and Sciamma framed each shot to emulate Victorian paintings; often having the actors in a wide shot with the camera locked off, allowing the actors to move freely about the space, seemingly not worrying about marks, or blocking. To complement the shot composition and the artistic crispness of the images being captured, Mathon and Sciamma decided to only use natural light, candlelight, or light from the cookfire to illuminate the scene. This diegesis articulates the filmmakers desire to emulate literal artwork. The combination of light and shadow drifting across the screen creates a mirrored seductive dance that visually articulates the desires of Marianne and Heloise. With the elements of the 8k cameras, the wide angle locked off camera shots, and use of natural and diegetic lighting, each frame truly is a painting.




            Sexual Prominence

            As implied in the film, the period of the 1770’s in France was indifferent but not openly hostile to those in the LGBTQAI+ community. While there wasn’t a public embrace of practices; there was an acceptance of existence. Yet, comparatively, just a few years after the time the events of the story take place, France would take some of the biggest and boldest steps toward tolerance and eventual acceptance of the LGBTQ community by being the first country in history to decriminalize sodomy after their Revolution in 1791.  Additionally, like in other geographic locations at the time, it would take generations for these practices to coalesce and solidify into a particular identity that was not only accepted, but welcomed and vigorously defended.

            As with the differences of class and wealth, the film depicts how class differences allow for greater obfuscation of non-heterosexual identities, desires and behaviors. Prior to her sister’s death, Heloise lived in the convent. This is presumably due to her sexual proclivities and thus would have gained some measure of peace had her sister not trapped her in the institution of the heterosexist patriarchy through her suicide. This personified using the green dress in the titular ‘portrait’[3] and the portrait itself.

In prerevolutionary France, as with many other cultures that use the corset (as the green dress does in the film) it is a garment that both “lifts women up and brings her down (Gibson 2020: 109). Both the green dress and the function of the portrait is to entice men. Yet, as we see in the film, the production of the portrait is one that is full of agency, as is the way and under what conditions the corset is warn. Both corset and portrait manufacture a patriarchally pleasing “womanly shape” and both are the product of male fetishization. Yet, the production of these products is female controlled. In Portrait, the women carve out space for themselves to have as much agency and choice they can glean from the ubiquitous and ethereal patriarchy throughout the near totality of the film’s runtime. Even though Marianne and Heloise know their time together is ephemeral, the women still choose to have it. As Dr. Gibson is fond of saying: “You always have a choice. It might be a choice with horrible options, but it is still a choice…and you always have to make it.” (Brutlag 2023).          

The isolation of the characters in the film, not only allows them to escape the latticed interlocking mechanisms of the patriarchy but allows them to build a queer feminist commune; one that is built on mutual respect, friendship and eventually passion. In her novel, Herland, Gilman (1991) illustrates the female commune as a Utopian society that is unraveled by the presence and intervention of men. Each man in Gilman’s story is a representation of consistent masculine stereotypes which are found in the patriarchal society. It is this combined effort which eradicates (through the slow and steady toxicity of masculinity) the feminist commune utopia. A society that had no crime, war, or political strife. A society that had a care model that engages in socialist practices, not just its rhetoric. Yet, Gilman (1991) cannot conceive of women having sex with each other. Instead, because motherhood is so important, children are genetically engineered in “Herland”. Yet, while Gilman (1991) is suspiciously quiet about homosexuality, Sciamma seems to be parroting Simone de Beauvoir (2010) in acknowledging its naturalness; and the complex mechanism of psychology, social circumstances and history that contributes to its self-discovery and active choices. Women just need a chance and space to create this sapphic feminist utopia for themselves.

During the film’s production, French Government launched “The International Strategy for Gender Equality”

 France is enhancing the coherence and effectiveness of gender actions in its development assistance policies and external action. The 3rd International Strategy for Gender Equality (2018-2022) is a steering tool designed to coordinate France’s efforts to improve the situation of women around the world. The strategy is the international embodiment of the President’s commitment to make gender equality the great national cause of his term.

This strategy acknowledges that women and girls are disproportionally affected by poverty, violent conflict and climate change, causing them to experience and face unequal and undo hardships, barriers and a constant threat of sexual violence around the world. Therefore, this strategy “enable survivors of conflict-related sexual violence to access compensation and reparations to help them reintegrate to society” …through a Global Survivors’ Fund. Additionally, this strategy bolstered political support for gender issues, financial equity issues, and made them more visible to the public. During that same time, the Ministry for Europe and Foreign Affairs and the AFD, provided €120 million over three years (2020-2022) to finance the activities of feminist organizations worldwide.

            Concurrently, during the #Metoo movement in the United States, Ninety-nine prominent French women signed a letter accusing the Hollywood anti-abuse campaign of censorship and intolerance.   Stating:

            What began as freeing women up to speak has today turned into the opposite – we intimidate people into speaking ‘correctly’, shout down those who don’t fall into line, and those women who refused to bend [to the new realities] are regarded as complicit and traitors

The article cited perceives a populist puritanism that fails to see nuance in a complicated subject. While these activists are right in principle, their consistent protection of men and their use of the shield of sexual positivity minimizes, deflects, and ignores the ways that sexual assault and the sexual violence of “The Rape culture” is polymorphous.




            A Portrait’ of Sciamma and Haenel: A Revisionist history?

             This was the first film I watched from Celine Sciamma; and it was the brilliance, masterwork and love of this film that made me want to include Sciamma in this director series. As readers can tell from previous essays, as I began to go back into Sciamma’s filmography beginning with her loose “Coming of Age” trilogy, I was troubled by what I found. I had expected to see shades or echoes of the technical mastery that is found here in ‘Portrait’ from a filmmaker who compassionately shows women’s burgeoning love through agency, autonomy and choice. A filmmaking style that was a much-needed relief from the objectifying patriarchal male gaze that propagates in any (moving) picture directed by any cisgendered man with a fragile ego that sees the camera as an extension of his genitals. Instead, I perceived Sciamma’s films to expose predatory sexual behavior, faux trans allyship and racism. So, when I rewatched this film as background and context for this review, I was worried that my perspective would shift and my love for this film would diminish. Surprisingly, even though I revisit this film annually, I still found it to be a feminist, passionately erotic, longingly heart wrenching masterpiece. Yet, I could not reconcile my perceived incongruity between this film and Sciamma’s earlier work[4]. Was I not seeing something darker in Portrait that I had seen in the previous trilogy, because of my affinity for the film? Did I need to give the coming-of-age trilogy another shot? As I was mulling over this inconsistency while I was rewatching Portrait, perplexed by my take of her previous films stating: “I like that this one [Portrait] is about choice and agency from two women of similar ages that have equal power and control in the relationship.” And this was what Adelle Haenel did not have when she entered into a romantic relationship with Sciamma after Water Lillies. Then, taking a broader analytical look, I remembered that the part of Heloise was written for Haenel, and it all clicked into place.

            When you look at Portrait through the lens of Sciamma’s and Haenel’s relationship, coupled with the knowledge that Heloise was written for Haenel; the relationship between Marianne and Heloise becomes both autobiographical and revisionist. Sciamma seems bent on reconceptualizing her relationship with Haenel without the imbalance of power that existed when they met through their roles in the film production of Water Lillies, and their considerable age difference. Marianne, the painter, is Sciamma’s surrogate observing Haenel’s Heloise. The framing and shooting of Haenel betray the intimacy that was once between the director and actor; just as Marianne in the film can capture Heloise with a loving grace that is unmatched. Art imitates life in Portrait as Marianne’s existence (as a free Queer woman) entices Heloise, and it is through Marianne’s guidance that Heloise’s (sexual) world opens. Through this critique, every aspect of erotic passion and intimacy seems like an abuser in their contrition stage gaslighting their victim into believing their version of events. This cinematic gaslighting allows Sciamma to attempt to reframe her past relationship with Haenel as less predatory. But this practice also recontextualizes the female gaze, one of this film’s most lauded strengths.



 

SOCIAL ANALYSIS           

            A Portrait of a Lady on Fire has a forward-facing feminism at every level. Writer/director Celine Sciamma is a self-identified feminist that cites French Feminist literature and art,  95% of the cast and 65% of the crew that worked on the project are women, the overarching themes are feminist, collectively dealing with contemporary women’s issues, and many journalist and scholars have written about the film regarding: The feminist politics of love, female solidarity, erotic entanglements of ambition, and of course the female gaze. The film also won the Screenplay award at Cannes and even won that year’s Queer Palm; marking the first time the prize has been given to a female director. The praise for this film is exceptional, because this is an exceptional film. On every technical and narrative level, this film is perfect; allowing a richness of commentary that is widely diverse, extending well into the cultural zeitgeist. Genovese and Paige (2024) update Adrianne Rich’s landmark “Compulsory Heterosexuality and the Lesbian Existence” through the prism of ‘A Portrait’, discussing the way that queerness can be a freedom within a heteropatriarchal society that continue to plague these relationships, lurking around the corner like some horror movie villain. Meanwhile, they see the use of the Orpheus and Euridice myth both romanticizes and gives agency to the tragedy of Marianne and Heloise’s fleeting relationship (Genovese and Paige 2024).

In the face of such excellent analysis and work on the subject, much of what follows may seem both shallow and derivative, as the power and excellence of this film is well documented. Yet, the splinter that continues to dig its way into my brain throughout all my reviews of Sciamma’s work thus far, is the incongruity between what the films say they represent, and aspects of the film’s production that contradict that messaging. As stated earlier, Sciamma’s predatory shot composition in Water Lilies, her disingenuous trans allyship without taking a stance on Trans politics in Tomboy, the white savor-y way that Sciamma looks at Black girls in  Girlhood, and the revisionist gaslighting of Sciamma’s previous relationship with Haenel in Portrait speak to a hypocrisy that is difficult to ignore. Thus, this section will both echo the film’s acclaim and interrogate the unresolved criticism I have with Sciamma as a filmmaker.

The Female Gaze

Sciamma is credited with articulating “the female gaze” in cinema. “The female gaze” is often framed against the typically cinephilic “male gaze” that genders the perspective of the camera as being heterosexually male. This is due to the historical sexism of the industry and the longevity of female exclusion behind the camera, especially as writers, cinematographers and directors. The longitudinal result of this is a film culture with established filmmaking techniques that objectify women. Since camera movement and angles, shot structures, and compositions all assume a male perspective, many of those movie methods are inherently sexist, often without the awareness of those that participate in its re-creation…especially if those people identify as men. Unfortunately, this also led to a shallow understanding of “the female gaze” to only mean: “when the camera is gendered heterosexually female”, which resulted in the increasing practice of men being objectified by the camera in a similar way. It is important to note that this can never be an equal one-to-one comparison due to the patriarchal power dynamics that are still in the industry. Sexualizing men in a similar way as the sexualization of women does not have the same level of impact. Conversely to this popular opinion, “the female gaze” is a point of view of the camera that respects the subjectivity of the person being looked at by seeing them as an individual and indelible to the person who is looking (Genovese and Paige 2024).




Sciamma illustrates this definition beautifully in this conversation between Marianne and Heloise:

Marianne: I did not mean to hurt you.

Heloise: You haven’t hurt me.

Marianne: I have, I can tell. When you are moved you do this thing with your hand.

Heloise: Really?

Marianne: Yes. And when you’re embarrassed, you bite your lips. And when you are annoyed, you don’t blink.

Heloise: You know it all.

Marianne: Forgive me. I’d hate to be in your place.

Heloise: We are in the same place.  Exactly in the same place. Come here.  Come.

            Marianne approaches and stands next to Heloise

Step Closer.  Look. If you look at me, who do I look at? When you don’t know what to say you touch your forehead. When you lose control, you raise your eyebrows. And when you are troubled, you breathe through your mouth

When viewing this scene through a feminist lens, the audience is witnessing the building of a sapphic romance with a melancholic tragedy at its core; but one that is based on equal power, as Heloise states “They are exactly in the same place.” Objectively, this is as Sciamma describes in interviews, “the manifesto of the female gaze.” However, when you frame this same scene in the context of Haenel’s and Sciamma’s past relationship, the motivation seems more nefarious. Sciamma, the writer director, having Heloise say, “They are in the exact same place.” is a line spoken by her former lover, Haenel, to the character of Marianne, the Sciamma surrogate in the narrative. This can be taken as an attempt at providing Sciamma with absolution. Through this dialogue, Sciamma recontextualizes her past relationship with Haenel as being more egalitarian by proxy than it was in reality. By eliminating the power imbalance of both age and occupation when their relationship began, Sciamma revises her relationship with Haenel without taking any of the responsibility.  Additionally, through this critique, every single instance of positive, informed and active consent between Heloise and Marianne depicted in the film, cast doubt on how much active and informed consent there actually was in the relationship between Haenel and Sciamma themselves.    




Abortion and Access to reproductive care

A major subplot of A Portrait of a Lady on Fire is the solidarity that Heloise and Marianne have with Sophie as they create a temporary feminine collective (Genovese and Paige 2024). Together, Marianne and Heloise assist Sophie in ending her pregnancy once Sophie expresses that she wishes not to remain so. As the first few attempts prove to be unsuccessful, Marianne and Heloise accompany Sophie to a female commune where she undergoes a procedure to terminate the pregnancy. Genovese and Paige (2024) along with many other scholars and journalist reviewing this film, focused on the symbolic importance of the male coded infant in the bed with Sophie as the representation of masculine fragility and the social construction of toxic masculinity that eliminates the natural compassion all humans possess when witnessing the pain and anguish of another person.

Just as important, but less frequently mentioned, is Sophie and Heloise’s re-creation of the procedure for Marianne to paint for posterity. The depiction of these abortions is not only a way to catalog history, but provides those looking for similar procedures with hope that such a thing is possible. This is the feminist power of female solidarity and the strength of women as a collective when they are not socialized through the patriarchy to “bargain” away their power; causing the alienation and vilification of each other for the benefit of men. It is this unity that truly scares the patriarchal power, because men are socialized to not be complete human beings without women. Instead, they are socialized to outsource emotional labor and compassion to women. This is in addition to the lack of life skills that keep men in conditional dependency to the structure of patriarchy. Thus, female solidarity, a feminine collective or a matriarchal society is a principled threat to the patriarchy and therefore must be eradicated. Gilman (1991) illustrated this over a century ago in Herland where the insecurity of men attempts to dismantle the matriarchy of a feminist utopia. It is this very same fear and insecurity that has played out in US politics over the last 50 years.         

 In 1969, prior to the ratification of Roe v. Wade, the Abortion Counseling Service, code named “Jane”, referred women to abortion providers who set both prices and conditions (Kaplan 2019). This was an underground effort by a group of women to provide necessary life saving and changing services to women at a time when unwanted pregnancies increased the mortality rate of women through botched abortions with coat hangers in “back alleys”[5]. These remarkable women curbed the dangers of non-state sanctioned abortions until the process was governmentally regulated; the Abortion Counseling Service being one of the first legal abortion clinics established in 1973 after Roe. With Roe being repealed in June of 2022, and the 18 state trigger bans on the procedure, that were enacted once the federal law was eliminated, the US saw a 2.3 % increase in maternal deaths in the near three years hence. Thus, as predicted by women’s health advocates and scholars, the total number of abortions have not decreased; only the number of safe abortions where the lives of women are in less jeopardy. Therefore, like Sophie, many of today’s US women are leaning on female community solidarity to provide a service that was once determined to be an autonomous body right for women for nearly 50 years.

 

CONCLUSION

            The much-deserved accolades for Sciamma’s fourth film in her filmography, A Portrait of a Lady on Fire, position it to be the writer/director’s Magnum Opus, and the work she will be most associated with in perpetuity. It is a masterpiece of filmmaking in both technical skill and feminist thematic ideology. A miraculous cinematic achievement: a period piece that both centers itself on the realities of the past, while allegorically connecting to the same struggles of the present. Yet, it cannot be ignored that the development of the story and the overarching narrative seems retroactively self-serving; allowing Sciamma to absolve herself of criticism and guilt by using the language of film to recontextualize past relationships and abdicate blame.  

 

REFERENCES

Brutlag, Brian 2023. “Episode 29: The Handmaid’s Tale Franchise with Dr. Rebecca Gibson” in The Sociologist’s Dojo Podcast 142:22  https://thesociologistsdojo.libsyn.com/episode-29-the-handmaids-tale-franchise-with-dr-rebecca-gibson

de Beauvior, Simone 2010.  The Second Sex new York: Vintage books  

Genovese, Emma and Tamsin Phillipa Paige 2024. “Life as Distinct from Patriarchal Influence: Exploring Queerness and Freedom through A Portrait of a Lady on Fire.” In Australian Feminist Law Journal 50: 1 pp. 91-112.

Gibson, Rebecca 2020. The Corseted Skeleton: A Bioarcheology of Binding New York: Palgrave Macmillian

Gilman, Charolette Perkins 1991. Herland and Selected Stories Barbara Soloman eds. New York: Signet Classic.

Kaplan, Laura 2019. The Legendary Underground Abortion Service New York: Vintage Books.

Sciamma, Celine 2019. A Portrait of a Lady on Fire Lillie Films/Neon France   



[1] Especially in the late 1770’s France where the seeds of revolution were being planted for a harvest that bore fruit in 1789.

[2] Social Capital is a Bourdieuian term to mean the value of a person’s  social relationships within a particular society. The value of those relationship have the ability to change depending on the changing context and dynamics of a particular social situation.

[3] I am aware that the actual “Portrait of a lady on fire” is not the portrait we see Marianne creating through the film but the picture she paints afterword of the image of Heloise by a bonfire with a streak of flame climbing up her dress.

[4] Granted, many directors lack consistency, many of them play with genre and tone that make them eclectic and well rounded. Plus, the inconsistent criticism is also unfairly lobbed at non-male directors as a not-so-subtle jab at their competence  

[5]  It should be mentioned that many of these clinics also provide general reproductive healthcare but because they are also tied to abortion access all of those other services like pap smears, mammograms, and breast cancer screenings are also lost.


Tuesday, July 9, 2024

The Films of Celine Sciamma: Water Lilies

 


The first film in my analysis of the films of Celine Sciamma, is the coming-of-age drama, Water Lilies. In this debut, Sciamma’s shot composition weaves a cinematic tapestry that heralds her as an up-and-coming auteur. Inter-stitched with a gender and sexually fluid color palette, Sciamma constructs a female gaze that captures the tumultuously turbulent acrimony of adolescence, where bourgeoning desire threatens to unravel fragile friendships. Water Lilies is the first in a loose trilogy about the slow transition out of childhood (along with Tomboy, and Girlhood). The production of this freshman film supports the consistent albeit mixed feminist messaging the director will be known for; however, upon greater reflection, some of the film’s specific sequences and overall choices may not have aged well in hindsight.

 


PLOT

When young Marie goes to a synchronized swim meet to support her best friend, she unexpectedly becomes enthralled with Floriane (Adele Haenel). As Marie gets more and more drawn in by Floriane’s charm and attention, she begins to question her sexuality, straining the relationship she has with her best friend who is also on a journey of sexual discovery. This film reminds us that regardless of the romantic path one takes, no matter how many twists and turns it makes, all roads lead to heartache.

 

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

            To understand the historical impact of Water Lilies, both the production and the film’s setting need to be interrogated. Due to films being a human cultural product, movies become infused with the time period in which they are created. This can be seen in the technology that is used on screen, filming techniques, pop cultural references used, all the way down to the film grain and sound mixing. Each of these aspects of the industry, perceptibly or imperceptibly, leave a trace as to the film’s historical affect, like a smudgy fingerprint on glass.  Depending on the type of film being made, this can either be an avenue or a barrier to the story being told. Sciamma’s first film taking place contemporaneously with the time period of the film’s production, allows it to avoid any complicated temporal anachronisms that are possible in period pieces or future (set) films. Thus, Water Lilies production and the film’s setting represent French Independent cinema, and the sexual politics of the late 2000’s

            Gay and sexual politics of the late 2000’s

During the writing and the development of Water Lilies there were transformative events in the LGBTQAI+ community. Sciamma, herself a lesbian GenXer, understands the difficulty in navigating the sexual politics of an identity that, during the time that she was a teenager, was not only less accepted, but abhorred. Thus, given this context, Water Lilies is both subversive for the time, and a beacon for the rights, representation and acceptance that was to come.

            The gender and sexual politics of the late 00’s was a period of growing pains. The white heterosexual hegemony was weaning slightly. Thus, fearful of losing that power, there was an attempt at the clawing rollback of gay rights in the states (California passing Proposition 8 making Gay marriage illegal) and abroad. In France, civil partnerships had been made legal in 1999 which, at the time, felt like a segregationist tactic of “separate but equal.” On the surface, these bills would give those that filed for domestic partnerships the same rights as a heterosexual couple outside of the name. However, these exclusionary policies were not only used as a social buffer between gays, lesbian and “the straights”- it outwardly misrepresented a cultural tacit rejection of anything that was non heterosexual.

            In Sociology, there is a term called cultural lag. This is the understanding that when a behavior, object or idea is introduced or implemented into a society or culture, there is an unspecified amount of time during which cultural acceptance is developed before it is implemented into the Bureaucratic processes of the social structure.  Technology is usually the easiest example of this: the internet existed before it became a cultural necessity. Yet, because of the power imbalance between those who hold high status positions in valued social institutions (military Governments and Economy) and the people whom they are supposed to serve, there is an extra barrier to the implementation of change regardless of its cultural acceptance. This is the impasse that sexual politics found itself in during the late 2000’s.

 Even in 2007, most of the world’s population was either supportive of or neutral towards another person’s sexuality. Yet, those in power were resistant to the will of their people and consistently pushed back against the efforts of sexual equality. This pushback was usually couched in the same rhetoric of neutrality using it to keep individuals in the proverbial “closet” or “on the DL" to limit public presentations of their identity; effectively using the rhetoric of ambivalence as a shield from criticism. Though, it is hard to accept that anyone who goes out of their way to deny the personhood of another group is uncaring. Therefore, the 2007-2008 resistance to gay rights was the product of the powerful’s persnickety perniciousness to shore up their worldview in the levees of institutional authority, indicating not only their discrimination but admitting to the fragility of their own values.

This tug of war against the people and the powerful over sexual politics has caused a “seesawing” effect on the validation of Non heterosexual identities and everything under the LGBTQAI+ banner. In addition to the 2008 California law mentioned above, the US federal government was also under the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), signed into law back in 1997 that defined marriage as only between one man and one woman. This was later attempted to be codified by the Bush administration in 2004 with the Marriage protection Amendment that died in congress. Later, the Obama Administration supported bills in congress that would weaken DOMA, eventually being reversed through the US Supreme Court decision in Obergefell V. Hodges that saw Gay marriage legalized in 2015. It was with this landmark decision that there was finally an alignment between the law and the cultural acceptance of sexual identities outside of the vanilla hetero/cis normativity.

 However, as the United States has flirted with fascism with the presidency of Donald Trump, we’ve witnessed the end of federal protections for reproductive rights for women. Roe v. Wade being repealed just shy of its 50-year anniversary. The court (with 3 new Trump appointees at the time) ultimately overturned the 1973 decision by questioning its rationalization around privacy. A rationalization that was also used in Obergefell due to the precedence established in Roe; making the former now vulnerable to appeal. This is happening while a majority of Americans still support Gay rights and same sex relationships. Yet, recent and relentless Conservative attacks have fueled public skepticism and waned support for trans and nonbinary people in the US.  

Being of French nationality, it is reasonable to assume that Sciamma wasn’t impacted by these contradictions in the States. Although, historically France has been far more progressive than the US when it comes to issues of sexuality and gender, still, between 2012 and 2013 the battle between the conservative and socialist parties in France were ambivalent about same sex marriage; ultimately solidifying France as a liberal nation with the passage of the Gay marriage bill in 2013, 6 years after the release of the film.

As mentioned at the beginning of this section, because Water Lilies drew upon the director’s own experiences, the revelation of attraction and expression is inherently framed from a Gen X perspective during a far more conservative time, even in France. Thus, a lot of the film, especially the intimacy between Marie and Floriane, happens behind closed doors, in locker rooms, and secret places in public parks. While this is typical of youthful sexual transgressions regardless of identity (in part because young adults do not have access to many private spaces without parental or adult supervision) these practices were necessary in the gay and lesbian subculture during times when expression of such an identity was met with criminal prosecution, violence and even death. Sciamma deftly illustrates not only the confusion of an emerging unbridled sexuality, but the added vexation of navigating the underground codes of sexual identities and behaviors that are not accepted by the cisgendered vanilla sex breeders.

            


            Production

           The inspiration for Water Lilies came from Sciamma’s experiences with the sport of synchronized swimming. The original French title, which translates into “birth of the octopus” was later changed for an international release. Sciamma felt that the term ‘water lilies’ was an insightful analogy to the way that female synchronized swimmers need to present themselves: athletic and strong but with a performative femininity. Water lilies being both of the soil and water, thriving in the silt of rivers and lakes, with resiliency hardy enough to break the surface tension of the water to flower above. In either case, with water lilies or French synchronized swimmers, the real labor underwater is never seen.  

            Being an independent and a considerably low budget film, not much else is known about the production of the film, beyond the knowledge that, sometime after this film wrapped, Sciamma and Haenel began a romantic relationship. In hindsight, considering that Sciamma and Haenel met on the set of Water Lilies, and the age gap between them (Sciamma was between 29-30 and Haenel was 17-18 years old at the time they met), calls for a reexamination of the film through the framing of power.

Regardless of when the romantic relationship between Sciamma and Haenel began, the initial cultivation of their relationship was not one of equal power. And while these power dynamics are indeed fluid and can change, a relationship that has a foundation of an imbalance of power is hard to disrupt, especially when that imbalance of power in a professional relationship is reinforced by the imbalance of the age gap between them. Consider the difficulties in the shift in power dynamics between parents and children, and how even adult children kowtow to parents and their desires when that subjugation is no longer required, nor beneficial. This imbalance became foundational in the initial relationship between Sciamma and Haenel that complicates a feminist reading of the film. An example of this is Sciamma’s thoughts on the sex and nudity of the characters that are supposed to be below the age of consent (even though all of the actors portraying the teens were over the age of 18):

"In the casting, I told each girl the whole scenario, including that scene in which one girl deflowers the other. You can't just say to a girl, 'if you're naked, that's your character.' No, it's her body. So I was always honest. I said that I would not betray them, that I would not take anything from them, that they should give me something. By itself. If they wanted to participate, they knew how far they had to go. I was surprised that they were immediately excited. But the story was really about them, they felt connected to it. And those parents were just as excited. They even helped me to lie to the government because I had given them a clean version of the script to convince them. The parents supported that story," Sciamma recalled.[1]    

 

On the surface this is very inclusive and provides the girls with the agency and autonomy to collaboratively create the story that Sciamma wanted to tell. However, reframe this statement with the knowledge of Sciamma’s and Haenel’s subsequent relationship, and through this lens, these statements seem predatory.

            Additionally, using the framing of Sciamma’s and Haenel’s relationship, the praise for the film becoming the template for a feminist female gaze in filmmaking is also tainted. Throughout the film, Floriane (Haenel) is the subject of Marie’s desire, often illustrated through the lens of the camera. Yet, because it is Sciamma behind the camera, and she is the person whom inevitably chooses which shots to use from hours of footage, any image that presents Floriane’s sexuality, regardless of the presumed agency that is presented, again seems predatory. It is difficult to believe, given both the final product and the history of filmmaking, that Sciamma wasn’t sexualizing Haenel well-before they became a couple. Thus, it is odd for a film to be praised for its depiction of girls, women and the agency afforded to them to express their sexuality, when the person who was ultimately responsible for constructing that narrative was objectifying one of them at the same time.

If I can be afforded some latitude for speculation, one of the reasons that this framing isn’t more commonly lauded at this film is due to the same sex nature of the relationship. Currently, as of this writing, allegations of sexual misconduct have been leveed against author Neil Gaiman. Gaiman (similar to Sciamma and Haenel) began a relationship with a 20-year-old victim after meeting them at a book signing 2 years prior. Almost instantaneously, Gaiman is “being canceled.”, and rightfully so. Yet, Sciamma remains a pillar of feminist filmmaking. A partial explanation for this could be the simplicity of popularity. Gaiman is more popular than Sciamma and thus garners more public attention. Additionally, the relationship between Sciamma and Haenel began and ended without attention or fanfare before social media became a factor in a majority of celebrity lives. Finally, one cannot discount the additional factor of the common age gaps and complicated entanglement of same sex relationships; many of which are based in a foundation of sexual mentorship. In this context, we can understand how Sciamma’s possible transgressions are made invisible, but no less problematic.

 


SOCIAL ANALYSIS

            Water Lilies is a story about the blossoming of sexuality in teenage girls and the emotional torrent that accompanies its revelation. Many of the sociological themes that this film encircles are ones of learning, self-discovery and introspection. Each of the three protagonists have to navigate this new (to them) gender and sexual landscape, coming to different solutions, conclusions and revelations between them, themselves and the rest of the world. To understand this further, the concepts of gender socialization, the eroticization of youth and the intersections of love and sex need to be examined.

            Gender Socialization

             Socialization is rudimentally defined as a social learning process, begins before birth and contains multitudes: the learning of both the self, and society; its rules, regulations and ways of acceptable behavior. This process needs to be engrossingly all-encompassing because it is used as a mechanism of social control. The internalization of its process and learned socially acceptable behavior(s) maintains the social order by constructing a law-abiding productive member of society. Yet, since most societies value patriarchal and white supremacist rule, the social order that emerges, and the learning process that is developed to ensure its reproduction, becomes inherently racist and misogynistic.

            Gender Socialization: the process by which individuals understand what it means to be male, female, and trans, along the gender spectrum within a particular society. Some societies see and expand upon the gendered spectrum, while others, most others, organize around a traditional, exclusionary binary.  Through the gender binary, gender stereotypes and assumptions emerge as concrete facts: boys are boys and girls are girls, to eventually become men and women.  Girls get the message that their value is chiefly located in their body and their relationship with boys and men; learning to cultivate their bodies, dreams and desires around the needs of others. It is from this that they are convinced they only find worth. If they dare to dream for themselves, they are consistently sanctioned and pressured to return to behaviors of subservience.

 Under such surveillance women lose their identity, becoming strangers to themselves (de Beauvoir 2011). Any identity outside of the roles of being wives and mothers is an identity which is perceived as one that a girl/woman steals for themselves. However, if these two identity conditions are mandatory and must be fulfilled prior to anything else, what is then framed as stealing, is instead a conditional perk of incarceration. Female childhood and adolescence are seething with the rage against their imprisonment in these roles, often thrashing themselves against the bars of their social prison, inflicting self-harm (de Beauvoir 2011).              

Because girls and women are valued in their bodies through the binary, the detention of society’s daughters begins around the subject of sex.  Beyond the simple objectification of women as sex objects or vessels for the next generation (through reproduction) this valuation frames women’s existence as being in service to others, typically men. Therefore, all these mechanisms by which girls and women are policed, are for the benefit of men. Laura Carpenter (2005) discusses this through the prism of virginity loss.

According to Carpenter (2005), girls and boys are socialized to perceive virginity differently. While boys are socialized to see their virginity as a stigma, something that needs to be gotten rid of as soon as possible, girls are socialized to see their virginity as a gift. However, it is not a gift that the girls give to themselves, to indicate body autonomy and agency, but a gift to their (presumed) heterosexual partner. This places undo attention and value on female virginity to the point that the perception of a girl/women’s morality is tied to whether or not they have had sex (Valenti 2009).

Sciamma inverts this importance of virginity in the film through Floriane, who is a virgin but has a slutty reputation among boys. When she is no longer able to delay the advances of one of her many male suitors, and to avoid the humiliation of being discovered as a virgin, she convinces Marie to deflower her through digital stimulation/penetration. This non heterosexual act is done in the service of men, specifically to give Floriane access to male power. Floriane does this without any reluctance or consideration for Marie’s feelings, which end up being hurt through Floriane’s emotional manipulation and lack of compassion.    

Since women get the message that their value is in their bodies, girls and women often conclude that one way to glean power, autonomy and authority is through the patriarchal bargain- when women lean into patriarchal, and ultimately unequal systems of power for the stability and security that behavior will provide. This is done in part through girls and women recognizing their body as currency. Yet, while girls and women can wrestle away power from men and the patriarchy in general, this behavior, even though it is framed as a subversion, or a rebellion, it is still in the service of men. The control that women assert over their heterosexual partners and the general domestic sphere is purposefully designed to provide men with women to support them. The patriarchal system conditions men to not be socialized to a variety of basic domestic duties while sanctioning women more harshly for those same behaviors. Thus, to avoid being sanctioned by others (and perceived as a “bad” wife and “mother” the roles from which Society draws girls and women’s value) many women feel pressure to exhibit control over the home and participate in this patriarchal bargain; convincing themselves that it is the only way to access power. This is contrary to the truth that the patriarchal structure conditions boys and men into a state of arrested development (often framing girlfriends and wives as “mothers they can fuck”) which then conditions women to fill/exploit that weakness to gain power that they were denied by virtue of being girls/women. Then, because this system is also misogynistic, even when women do the very things society tells them they need to do to gain value, they are still sanctioned for it. This is typically done through slut shaming or framing their behavior as manipulative and controlling.

Water Lilies shows Floriane as beginning to understand the patriarchal bargain and her body as currency. Not only does she understand the value of a sexual reputation in getting interest and attention from men, from which she can gain status, but the way that she uses access to her body as “payment” for services rendered (Giving Marie a kiss after she deflowers Floriane for the purpose of male attention). Also, by framing this as a transaction, she keeps an emotional distance from these behaviors and unfortunately does not recognize or care about the emotional fallout of her actions; for Marie, or anyone around her.  Floriane’s use of erotic capital is the mechanism by which these misogynistic traps of false consciousness, learned through the process of gender socialization, hurt everyone around her, regardless of gender or sexual identity.




Uses of the Erotic and The Lesbian Existence

            Because women have been taught to use their erotic capital and their bodies as currency for the support of men, this strips the inherit power of the erotic that women can use to validate themselves. According to Audre Lorde (2007) part of the social control of women in a misogynistic patriarchal system is the suppression and appropriation of the erotic, ignoring it as a source of information and power in women’s lives.  (p 53-54)

            [Women] have been warned against [the erotic] all [their] lives by the male world, which values this depth of feeling enough to keep women around in order to exercise it in the service of men, but which fears this same depth too much to examine the possibilities of it within themselves

This is especially true when looking at the way the patriarchal system discourages female friendships, often framing each other as competition for male attention. This is born out of the fragility of masculinity at the core of any misogynistic patriarchy. Because the culture has organized the value of women to be in the service of men, the latent fear that underlines this domination and oppression is the lack of value and importance men have in women’s lives. Women become instrumental to men’s lives and their livelihood (part of the mechanism to control men too) especially in heterosexual relationships to their benefit; men who are married with children report higher rates of happiness and wellness. Yet, cis/het women consistently report higher levels of health, happiness and wellness when they are unmarried and childless. This not only shows that men and women are socialized into norms and behaviors in opposition to their overall happiness, but it also consciously separates women from the source of their power; each other. The alienation and competition of women is a socially constructed mechanism of social control, because empowered women are a danger to the patriarchal social order. Their erotic power is a lifeforce that can be cultivated through girls and women’s relationship to each other (Lorde 2007).

    The erotic empowerment of women through their relationships was coined by Adrianne Rich as “The lesbian Existence.” As I explained in a previous essay:

Rich exclaims:

“The Lesbian existence comprises both the breaking of a taboo and the rejection of a compulsory way of life. It is also a direct or indirect attack on male right of access to women. But it is more than these, although we may first begin to perceive it as a form of nay-saying to patriarchy, an act of resistance. It has of course included role playing, self-hatred, breakdown, alcoholism, suicide, and intrawoman violence; we romanticize at our peril what it means to love and act against the grain, and under heavy penalties; and lesbian existence has been lived (unlike, say, Jewish or Catholic existence) without access to any knowledge of a tradition, a continuity, a social underpinning. The destruction of records and memorabilia and letters documenting the realities of lesbian existence must be taken very seriously as a means of keeping heterosexuality compulsory for women, since what has been kept from our knowledge is joy, sensuality, courage, and community, as well as guilt, self-betrayal, and pain”

As the term "lesbian" has been held to limiting, clinical associations in its patriarchal definition, female friendship and comradeship have been set apart from the erotic, thus limiting the erotic itself. But as we deepen and broaden the range of what we define as lesbian existence, as we delineate a lesbian continuum, we begin to discover the erotic in female terms: as that which is unconfined to any single part of the body or solely to the body itself, as an energy not only diffuse but, as Audre Lorde (2007) has described it, omnipresent in "the sharing of joy, whether physical, emotional, psychic," and in the sharing of work; as the empowering joy which "makes us less willing to accept powerlessness, or those other supplied states of being which are not native to me, such as resignation, despair, self-effacement, depression, and self-denial.” (p54)[2]

            In Water Lilies, it is heavily implied through genre conventions (of the coming-of-age story tropes) that Floriane, like Marie, is trying to understand and navigate her own sexuality; her eroticization by cis/het boys and men allowing her to experiment. This “freedom” is afforded to her because she is a cis/het fem presenting female. An identity whose sexuality, and its exploration, has been co-opted and appropriated by both cis/het men and the porn industry. Because of this, girls and women can more easily experiment with non-heterosexual behaviors openly and in public without much sanction, as long as it is framed as being performative for male attention. This causes many gay and bisexual girls to go through a period of trying to pass as straight (Orenstein 2016). It is possible that this is what Floriane is contemplating and working through in the film, without an understanding of how her actions are affecting others around her. It comes down to whether the audience interprets her actions as being with calculated malicious intent, or as confusion, ignorance and oblivion to her own charisma.

  


CONCLUSION

            Celine Sciamma’s debut film, Water Lilies, is the opening volley in a coming-of-age trilogy that investigates social, gender and sexual development through an attempted feminist lens using the female gaze. Sciamma mostly achieves this with dialogue, genuine reactions from actors and shot compositions that try to get inside the mind of teenage Parisian girls as they navigate the trials of gender socialization and tribulations of their “flowering” sexual identity. Yet, Sciamma’s later relationship with one of the film’s stars, reveals that like the history of the male gaze in cinema, the female gaze can also be predatory.

 

REFERENCES

de Beauvior, Simone 2011. The Second Sex New York: Vintage Books.

Carpenter, Laura M. 2005. Virginity Lost An Intimate Portrait of First Sexual Experiences. New York: New York University Press.

Lorde, Audre 2007.  Sister Outsider Essays and Speeches by Audre Lorde Berkely: Crossing Press

Orenstein, Peggy 2016. Girls and Sex: Navigating the Complicated New Landscape. New York: Harper Press

Valenti, Jessica 2009.  The Purity Myth: How America’s Obsession with Virginity is Hurting Young Women Berkely: Seal Press.