Monday, June 1, 2026

"If Villain Bad, Then Why Hot?" How Consuming Modern Villain Narratives and Redemption arcs Obfuscates and Sanitizes Real-World Villainy

 

Cinema has always been a lens by which to explore the human condition. Often, movies are cited as a mirror with which to reflect human choice and fallibility. Rarer is the acknowledgment that film can be a framing device for the understanding of the world. Cinematic socialization, often generalized by “the socialization of the media”, allows for social learning from within the proscenium of the silver screen. Yet, what happens when we internalize the “wrong” / unintended messages either through ignorance or intention? This brief paper is interested in the intersection of media illiteracy and the emulation of villainy. The continued humanizing and complicating of cinematic villains for the purpose of dramatic storytelling desensitizes us to the identification of real-life monsters, while assisting in their creation by giving these would-be fiends cinematic blueprints for atrocities that they follow; often to the frame. Resulting in  dystopian fiction becoming current events. This propagandistic conditioning toward villainy has made us vulnerable to the most reprehensively repugnant and contemptuously foul facsimile of human beings that vie for power, allowing them to bring cinematic hell on earth to our reality.

 

FOUNDATIONS

            This paper is a continuation, a spiritual sequel, to my recent essay on the relationship between Trump era policies and dystopian fiction.   In that paper, I laid out the basic sociological understanding of the media as an agent of socialization. I first illustrated how nostalgia is used as a conditioning tool before claiming how MAGA rhetoric uses that conditioning and dystopian fiction as a blueprint to bring about the horrifically oppressive policies the Trump administration has enacted (under the guidance of Project 2025). Using that as a base, this paper aims to look at the way that the media launders hateful ideas and desensitizes us; particularly through the pop culture archetype of the villain, and our various attempts to humanize them.

            [Public and Private life] take on the qualities of spectacle, theater, all forms of art, on reality to obliterate the very distinction between art and life.” (Lasch 1979:86)

            Sociological basics

            The fundamental Sociological concepts to the understanding of how the media can define evil and support the development of real-world villainy are found in social constructionism.  Social Constructionism is the idea that what we call reality is not concrete and fixed (thereby only experienced in passivity), but rather actively created, interpreted and integrated by those who live within it (Burger and Luckmann 1966).  This is a constant social process by which we shape, identify, and define reality through language, meanings, rituals, beliefs, and behaviors. Thus, to say that ‘reality is a social construction’ is to say that what we accept as reality depends on the context in which the elements of that reality are important in a particular time and place. Societies can construct common realities by the acceptance of certain laws and rituals within a given collective group.  However, a person’s reality within a society can be drastically different depending upon variations of social class, gender, race, sexuality, disability, religion, political ideology, parental norms and values among others.

After the construction of reality is established, an internalization of that social construction through the process of the socialization of the self occurs. Socialization of the self is the process by which individuals learn the development and maintenance of an independent self-identity. This is how we learn who we are, as a product of everything around us in the social world. We are both a reflection of society (Cooley’s Looking Glass Self) and simultaneously attempt to control how other people see us through an elaborate performance (Goffman’s Presentation of Self).

According to Cooley (1983), the “Looking glass self” identifies how the interactions and reactions that we have with others help to shape our understanding of ourselves. We are more likely to have a positive self-concept if we have an overabundance of positive interactions and reactions from other people. That is regardless and often despite behaviors or attitude to the contrary. Once we realize that our interactions and reactions to others hold that same power, we attempt to control how other people see us through establishing and the development of an elaborate performance that attempts to maintain a particular impression that we “give off”. Thus, through the words that we use, the clothes that we wear, our hobbies, interests, and demeanor, we engage in a series of behaviors that attempt to give off a desired impression. That impression can be varied and has the ability and likelihood to change throughout a person’s life; both as they age and within a variety of contexts. Yet, that impression is not internalized into the self until that performance gains some outside validation from others.

For example, if a person wants people to think they’re smart, they may wear certain clothes, major in a presumably difficult subject and only speak using multi-syllabic words, all in the service of “giving off” the impression of intelligence.  Yet, the person “giving off” that impression is not convinced they’re smart until someone who sees this presentation, validates it with a response such as: “Hey, you’re pretty smart.” It is only then when the individual is convinced of their own performance and thereby finishing the cycle of self-development through this validation do they believe their intelligence. It is a cycle of ritualistic self-delusion.

While there is a synergistic quality to the ideas set forth by Goffman (1959) and Cooley (1983), there is a tendency to overlook the fluidity of these concepts as they both feed into and solidify each other. For Goffman (1959) the “presentation of self” is not sui generis. It needs a foundation to draw inspiration from. That inspiration is found through the interactions and reactions that people have with the media, particularly films. Regularly, film stars, particularly through roles they have taken, become a reference group to model a variety of behavior.  While the roles and screen images that represent certain desired qualities like “coolness” “heroism” “suavity”, “ruggedness,” “self-reliance” “resourcefulness”, “attractiveness” etc.; shift depending on historical context (generational differences) and the types of images people consume. There is a consistency of emulation depending on the values an individual wants to portray and (hopefully) eventually have validated through their social interactions. As film portrayals get increasingly more complicated and nuanced, so too is our understanding of and desirability for a more layered self-presentation also complicated.

 


HISTORICAL CONTEXT

              In line with Cooley’s and to an extent Goffman’s analysis, cinema is one of the “looking glasses” of culture. Film represents and reflects both the period in which it was created, and the desired representation of a better world by those in power. This literal black and white moralism on film was exemplified by the development and implementation of The Hays Code. The Hays Code were guidelines of self-censorship developed by the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) from 1934-1968. Named after the President of the MPAA from 1922-1944, Will H. Hays. The code sought to restrict human expression in film by setting moralistic guidelines that align with conservative White Judeo-Christian beliefs, popularized by middle class to rich white Americans at the time.

           

The Hays code included:

·         Language restriction: There were restrictions on blasphemy and the use of what was considered lewd and profane words. Including such mild slights as “damn”

·         The prohibition against any suggestively licentious nudity, which included actual or suggested forms (varied by gender expression) or any lecherous behavior. All of which was defined with a large breadth, that even bare female calves were included.

·         The vague ambiguity of “any inference of sexual perversion” which was a euphemistic dog whistle to mean any non-heterosexual behavior.

·         The use and trafficking of drugs

·         White Slavery aka “The sexual slavery of white women”[1]

·         Miscegenation[2]

·         Ridicule of the clergy

It also regulated

·         The use of the flag

·         Religious (Christian) ceremonies

·         Violence, Gruesomeness and Torture

·         Sedition

·         Sympathy toward criminals

·         Prostitution

·         Consummation of Marriage and the institution of Marriage itself

 

For nearly 35 years, there was a rigid moralizing of the images allowed on film that fit with the principles of religious conservatism at the time. The breakaway from this into more flexibility brought with it a Hollywood revolution that saw the rise of the 1970’s renegades: Coppola, Spielberg, Scorsese, John Milius and George Lucas. These young filmmakers, many out of the University of Southern California, eventually ran their own studios so that they could write, produce, and direct the movies that they wanted to create. This helped usher in the Auteur Era of Hollywood, and normalizing naturalism in acting.

 

As I state in a previous essay (2021)

The naturalist acting method that was cultivated by the Meisner and Stanislavski methods. These methods then became popularized by the “New Hollywood” of the 1970’s, becoming the default acting approach for most film and television today. The belief being that this naturalism allows for greater intimacy and relatability between the actors and the audience; that through this technique, the strength of the cinematic illusion can be solidified. Currently, naturalism has such a strangle hold on the industry, that people do not remember that there even were other styles of acting in other eras. The over-exaggerations of the 1930’s films, itself a consequence of the silent film era, are often ignored. In fact, the acceptance of the naturalism method also informs criticism; with awards going to those performances that best exude the realistic form, while at the same time condemning other acting styles of other eras as being “hammy”, or lacking in subtlety.

 

The normalization of naturalism allowed the complexity of characters to thrive. This process allowed characters to be complicated, flawed and “unlikable” (a label that is still only positively associated with male characters, as complicated female character’s personalities are still a representation of their complete and utter moral failing (Bogutskaya 2023)). The popularity of these byzantine behaviors reshaped storytelling and our relationship with problematic protagonists.  

 


            From Black and White to Morally Grey: the changing of the cinematic Villain.

           

The presentation of moral complexity in cinema has brought with it variously valued verisimilitude. The nuance of the human condition creates compelling drama. As this took shape in our culture, so too did it show up in our popular media. After the elimination of the Hays Code and the rise of the New Hollywood darlings of the 70’s and their fragile, feckless fanatical frauds that populated the movieplexes, we were ready to root for the bad guy. While this trend started in the 1970’s, the reshading of the protagonist to be morally ambiguous or apathetic, solidified in the 2000-2010’s with Prestige TV. What started with Travis Bickle and Michael Corleone led to Tony Soprano and Walter White. These characters were tortured, angry, dower, and delectably dysfunctional. We were addicted to the drama.

 There have already been a handful of psychological and sociological explanations for our unyielding affinity for villains. First, is simple exposure. The more naturalism pushed storytelling into the grit and gritty dark places, the faster it proliferated in every medium. This often got mistaken for “realism”, slicing the veil between fiction and reality so thin it could go into Paulie’s Prison Sauce from Goodfellas. As Hollywood began the reproduction of popular products, in their pursuit of perpetual profits, we became awash with morally grey anti-heroes, heart of gold haters, and bad ass bad guys. The more we are served these depictions, the more they are normalized. Therefore, we are more likely to have empathy and even learn to like those that we are supposed to loathe (Gale Kee, Mccoy and Powell-Dunaway 2012).

 Secondly, there is “The Halo Effect.” This is the social psychological idea that if you find a person physically attractive, it is easier to project positive qualities and attributes to them. Hollywood and a variety of other media (exclusively anime) portray, or in the case of anime, create their characters as exceeding and redefining the societal conventions of attraction. Film and TV are the trend setters of the “sexy stock market”, setting the value of erotic capital every season. Erotic Capital is the value of an individual based on their ability to subscribe and achieve Socio-historic and cultural beauty/body norms in the eyes of others (Hakim 2010). The mechanism of Hollywood movie making runs on the erotic capital of its camera facing talent; regardless of what roles they play. The consistency of attractiveness being both presented and attributed to dubious characters is time honored with “the bad boy” aesthetic; in which the physical attractiveness of the character is reinforced with the desired quality of resistance or outright defiance to authority. Since the 1970’s, the anti-establishment misanthrope, in some form, has always been a sexual awakening trigger for many people. Almost 60 years later, this trope has been laconically refined into the crystalized “memeable” phrase: “If Villain bad, why Hot?”. This tethering of attractiveness with antagonistic behavior even seeps its way into our current lexicon. Attractive, but often aggressive women, with acerbic attitudes, are commonly referred to as “Baddies”. Yet, the investment in a morally grey anti-hero that convinces us ‘to root for the bad guy’ is conditioned into us through the storytelling structural convention of “the protagonist paradox.”

 The protagonist paradox is the narrative phenomena where the audience’s proximity to a character, especially if a story is told from their perspective, with a focus on interiority and motivation, elicits empathy.  Simply put: if there is a main character, we are likely going to justify their behavior. Ironically, one could surmise that as a character’s actions become increasingly reprehensible, the less likely we will rationalize their actions. However, the protagonist humanization is often so complete that even the most egregious behavior is defended by the audience, especially those within an exclusive fan community that may have built a parasocial relationship with the character and emulate them, even when they shouldn’t (i.e. Frank Castle). This happens even though the character is intended to be a cautionary tale. Whether it be by media illiteracy or willful ignorance, the protagonist paradox has caused us to blur the line between fictitious and genuine villainy, allowing the ladder to be undetectable or sanitized.

            The expression of villainy can serve a variety of purposes in a narrative. Typically, it is used as an antagonistic counterbalance for the protagonist which allows the main character to be reframed as a hero. This antagonist as villain trope was common during the Hayes Code which set clear moral boundaries. But once the code was lifted and we started to shift to a greying of the protagonists and the rise of the anti-hero, so too did we start to humanize the villain. As heroes got darker, villains became lighter. The motivations for their actions shifted from a self-centered core of dastardly diabolical debauchery to something outside of themselves. Often being the accountability for, and symptom of, larger social problems. This allowed the plight of villains to be both relatable and understandable. Because of this, villains of the post-Haze code became incrementally humanized.

This humanization of cinematic villains and a shift in their motivations correlates to the fight for, rise of, and implementation of civil rights and social justice movements in the US. Like Cooley’s “Looking glass”, Pop Culture is a mirror reflecting and at time refracting the image of society, forcing us to look.  As the collective understanding of injustice’s source shifted from the interpersonal to systemic through the civil rights movement, so too shifted the source of heroism and villainy. Our protagonists and heroes became more inclusive and had an awareness of structural and culturally normalized discrimination and oppression. In this context, as this acceptance of diversity and systemic social critique continued, many of the “bigger bads” of our current popular culture are a representation of the systemic evil trinity of Capitalism, Misogyny and White Supremacy. Many of the humanized villains are victims of, or linked to, these three interlocking oppressions. These post-Hays Code villains experience tragic loss, abuse, and/or rail against a variety of injustices from the holocaust, the environment, racism, and sexism to  bureaucracy itself. These moralistic villains have achieved such public support and adulation that it has popularized the phrase “This is my villain origin story.” The public understands and accepts that these systems, as we either experience or participate in them, can be the thing that makes any of us “break bad.”

Simultaneously, the unsympathetic villains that have little to no redeeming qualities often embody one or more aspect of the treacherous trinity. These are your corporate billionaires, toxic masculine dude-bros, and overt racists. Unfortunately, this unsympathetic villainy can be used to justify capitalist, misogynistic and racist behavior that is considered less by comparison. Individuals may excuse their own horrendous behavior because they aren’t Lex Luthor, or they “didn’t own slaves” (Bonilla-Silva 2022). The blurring of the lines between these systemic evils and our participation in them, allows us to eliminate cognitive dissonance, while maintaining a sense of moral superiority through the common declaration: “Well, at least I’m not that bad.” However, media illiteracy and a drive to access and obtain various forms of power (social, political, economic), results in people not only rooting for the bad guy but purposefully embodying them.  




        Cinematic vs Real world villainy

Film and popular culture have long been used as propaganda. Music, tv, theater and film have been indoctrinating tools that breed support for one or all of the interlocking systemic evils of Capitalism, Misogyny and White Supremacy. The quality and “entertainment” of the propaganda obfuscates these intentions. A catchy hook, “sick beat, or cool action scene can distract us from the promotion of a variety of social ills. Thereby becoming a recruitment tool for mechanisms of hate (Simi and Futrell 2024). Yet, the shifting of the cinematic villain also causes the villain, and their deeds, to potentially be a blueprint to create those problems in reality  

            As indicated above, we have seen “the villain” go from maniacal mustache twirling to a relatable, albeit misguided, character with three dimensions. Six decades of this moralizing of villainy has conditioned audiences to rationalize bad behavior and desensitizes us to the reality of truly cruel and evil people. Cinema and popular culture have given us a template for the sympathetic villain, but in those same stories, outlined their redemption arcs. Thus, not only do we get the “Thanos was right.” And “The Joker has a point.” crowd; howling in their tiny fiefdom of the internet, but we get villains who are so sympathized that they are reworked into heroes. Some of these arcs are intentionally designed by creators of the property (Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender and Nolan from Invincible[3]) others are forced into heroism through sheer fan appeal due to their immense erotic capital and charisma (Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Loki in the MCU). The quality of this turn depends on the writing, as some horrendous acts are harder to come back from than others. Darth Vader is a Space Nazi who murdered children after all. But no matter how smooth or clunky the redemption arc, audiences will salivate and devour it. Media illiteracy helps with this transition.   

            Rationalizing villainy, outside of exposure or their sex appeal, usually comes from an internal place. We are conditioned to put ourselves in the shoes of the villain, and if we experience anything like what they have experienced, it triggers our empathy. This happens regardless of the intent of the creators. Many people who are “symping” for villains, fail to see the purpose their presence has in the prose. Whether this is being fueled by blind faith, erotic capital, or a vapidly hollow reading of the text, they are unable or unwilling to see the villain as a cautionary tale. Thus, their admiration is misplaced, and if they bully the creators into granting a redemption arc, they could fracture the storytelling in the process. The audience seems to be glad to sacrifice theme and narrative satisfaction if it means they can lust after attractive people on screen.

Another form of media illiteracy that is more nefarious is when these villains and their behaviors are rationalized, not for their aesthetic, but for the qualities that make them villains. Here, the evangelizing of these villains is rooted in the desire to emulate them.  Those most likely to engage with villainy as a blueprint, are those adjacent to nerd culture that are in positions of power.  

I state in a previous essay (2025)

 These men and the other people hanging on in their orbit, consume and express a deep affinity for nerd culture beyond just using pop culture as an extemporaneous example to get their point across.  These men often use “geek speak”… as representation of their In Group status with one another. This is done for solidarity and as an exclusionary subcultural shorthand. Yet, for many of them, they seem far more interested in aesthetics rather than the context.

Names and inspirations are trading on an understanding of the text that, when applied to real life, shows a value system that reinforces aspects of government control, militarism, racism, Western globalization and misogyny. Thus, it is the (mis)reading of [Popular Culture] in this way that veils these ideas as dangerous. Allowing these wealth tech “Broligarchs” to launder their crypto-fascism through the prism of pop culture. Making those ideas both more palatable to a broader audience and provide plausible deniability in the face of conflict, criticism or consequences.  

 

Succinctly, we are living in a world where the people in power consume popular culture and delusionally not only root for the bad guy but use the villain archetype and corresponding allegorical cautionary tales as blueprints for legitimate public policies. This is why the current Trump administration’s policies reflect a variety of dystopian fiction (Brutlag 2025).




            The historical consumption of the humanized anti-villain archetype, since the elimination of the Hayes code, has left us vulnerable. We get weak in the knees for attractive characters regardless of their politics, principles, or past behaviors. No matter how egregious or reprehensibly vile their actions: be they genocide, rape, the obliteration of planets, or threatening the cosmos; someone will be like “Here me out..”   This conditioning of a questionable collective consciousness towards villains, when projected into reality, makes it difficult to spot those who will do us true harm. These persons seeking power need only to smile, make promises and use their honeyed words to assure us that their “past is the past” (Bonilla Silva 2022). It is not a coincidence that the language of the villain redemption arc, when applied to reality, is like what perpetrators of Intimate partner violence claim during their cycles of abuse with their targets (Misogyny). The consumption of media that humanizes the villain; normalizes, sanitizes and makes excuses for the real villains in our own lives. It makes them invisible, and regardless of their behavior, conditions us to the promise of redemption. A cycle that more than enough people will fall back into; resulting in those real villains perpetually holding power over us. Allowing them to take advantage of us, and harm us repeatedly, because we think they will change; because movies and tv tells us that they can.    

Since the rise of so-called “cancel culture” celebrity redemption arcs have been constructed down to a science. Whenever a celebrity says, or more prominently, does something racist, misogynistic, ableist, or generally abhorrent, they go through the process of a redemption arc.

This Process includes:

·         A very public apology. The expression of regret, remorse, and the promise to get help and to make amens

·         Disappearing. There is a distancing of the artist from the public. This will be a removal from all social media and calls to give the person time and space to heal. This could last as little as a few months to years

·         Reemergence- After some designated downtime, the individual will test the water by doing something small in the public eye to judge public reception. Sometimes they will acknowledge their absence, often they won’t. This reinforces that they have learned from their “troubled and turbulent past” something that ingratiates themselves to their fans more; as the action humanizes.

 

This is a process is a form of celebrity capital furthered by symbolic capital. Celebrity capital is accumulated media visibility that results from recurrent media representations (Driessens 2013). Symbolic capital is the value of an individual or groups demographics is a particular social situation (Bourdieu, 1987). Through this process, a celebrity trades on their celebrity capital (improved by their symbolic capital through their cis/het white “dudeness”) to avoid accountability. If cancel culture is the manifestation of accountability, the celebrity redemption arc is its circumvention. Which means that any mea culpa from a celebrity is usually performative. Unfortunately, because of our conditioning to the anti-villain archetype, and our considerably short attention spans, and even shorter memories, they are forgiven, or at the very least no longer reviled.  We have seen this across mediums and genres: In movies and Tv: Robert Downey Jr, Aziz Ansari, Louie C.K. In music: Michael Jackson, R. Kelly, Sean Combs, Kanye West, in Politics: Donald Trump, Bill Clinton.  It is important to note that there seems to be a direct correlation between the popularity of the figure (measured by the value of the pop cultural products they produce) with the public’s willingness to forgive and/or forget their transgressions. Succinctly, if the public likes their films, music or tv specials, they’re more likely to give them the benefit of the doubt; in part to absolve themselves of the guilt of enjoy the pop culture they produce.        

                    


       

SOCIAL ANALYSIS

            This vulnerability to the anti-villain archetype presented in the media that we consume furthers both the banality of evil and its humanization through comedy. Contrary to the typical portrayal of movie villains, the notion of evil is not some grand Machiavellian horror that is melodramatically grandiose, regardless of what either classical or contemporary portrayals portend. Instead, it is belief in the inhumanity of others so completely that actions toward them are not given any modicum of care and attention. It is listless boredom with which they engage in behaviors and atrocities, rather than the assumed rageful hate that’s fueling this cruelty.  However, what some films like Schindler’s List, Come and See (and more recently), The Zone of Interest have shown is that evil is not angry; it’s apathetic. This is foundational dehumanization in a fascistic state (Stanley 2020). The villain archetype is a distraction from the real evils people in positions of power have employed. Which often remains undetected because they either don’t fit the archetype or they are framed as legitimate and therefore normalized.

        The Sanitation of evil through Media

            The media as a mechanism furthers the invisibility of evil’s plainness through comedy in two specific ways: to humanize the subject considered evil, and the use of comedy to deconstruct and criticize.  The idea of evil is scary regardless of the form it takes. Albeit a biblical manifestation or one of mundane mediocrity, the concept of evil is a mechanism of social control by the social order. That fear is what maintains a set of desired behaviors whether that be action (by those not in power) or acquiescence (to those in power).

Comedy is used to sanitize evil through humanization. Just as the (Anti) Villain archetype is humanized by tragic backstory, and experiences of injustice, so too do real life villains promote stories about their own humanizing tragedies. Classic examples often include poverty and abuse. Indicating, similar to the villain archetype in pop culture, that they are misunderstood and a product of their horrific upbringing. This is then sanitized through comedy. If a real-life villain can laugh at themselves and make light out of their performative and propagandized tragedy, that goes a long way in engendering sympathy in the audience (especially if that audience is the key to ascending political power).  Thus, being conditioned to the humanized anti-villain archetype primes us to have empathy for real life villains who lay their tragedies bare.

JD Vance does this when he talks about Poverty and growing up in Appalachia. Regardless of the truth of it, the story itself is enough for many to look for a redemption arc. Additionally, JD Vance has often been able to deflect public ire by laughing off serious comments he made “as just jokes”, or through self-deprecation. Here he’s using comedy as a shield; a common tactic whenever someone is attempting to hold people in power accountable for discriminatory rhetoric.

The other way that comedy is used to sanitize real life evil is its use to humiliate those in power. “Punching up”, as they say, has always been comedy’s weapon against injustice. The idea being that by laughing at the expense of people in power it robs them of their seriousness, it makes them less scary. However, this also comes at the expense of humanizing them; without any of the structural benefits of depleting their power or making any policy changes.    

As I wrote in a Previous essay (2025)

While it is easy to write off these individuals as pitifully sad, insecure, arrested developed man-babies; that is a coping mechanism for those of us without the same level of access to power and influence to be able to exist in such an unequal world. However, the infantilizing and emasculating of these men does not make their decisions and control over our institutions any less complete. It just makes living within their tech-bro oligarchy more bearable for the rest of us. Unfortunately, this normalization still benefits them. No matter how many jokes we make at their expense, their wealth, status and control allow for a shaping of the world in their desired image of the pop culture they consume. Therefore, because of the power that they wield, that representation, no matter how inaccurate, threatens to become reality.

Comedy does nothing here but desensitize us to their Rule and normalize their villainous fanaticism. They are sanitized, and we feel morally superior to them, allowing us to better exist under their thumb. Therefore, even the mechanisms we use to cope with this growing fascistic society are weaponized against us; allowing the elites to amass even more power and shield themselves from whatever criticism we might be able to cobble together.

 


CONCLUSION

Since the elimination of the Haze Code, a reprehensibly restrictive constraint on creativity, we have been culturally conditioned to embrace and even desire villainy. Through our popular culture, we’ve internalized the value of the anti-villain archetype, making us vulnerable to the threat of real-world villains that vie for political, social and economic power. Comedy is often used to further the acquisition of power and used as a shield to deflect legitimate criticism. In the face of such dire circumstances, one of the few things that we can hold onto is threads of anecdotal evidence that suggest that holding on to hate prematurely ages individuals and impacts the erotic capital they hold. If it didn’t, imagine a reality where our current leaders had the erotic capital that is often held by our villains of fiction. How much easier would we be willing to march to our annihilation with the same exuberance with which we lust after those in our stories.

 

REFERENCES

Berger, Peter and Thomas Luckmann 1966. The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge New York: Anchor Books  

Bogutskaya, Anna 2023. Unlikable Female Characters: The Women Pop Culture Wants you to Hate. Naperville: Sourcebooks

Bonilla-Silva, Eduardo 2022. Racism without Racists: Color Blind Racism and the Persistence of Racial inequality in America New York: Rowman and Littlefield

Brutlag, Brian 2021. “The Sociology of Nicolas Cage: Simulacrum and Hyper Reality of a 'Massive Talent' in The Sociologist’s Dojo retrieved at https://thesociologistsdojo.blogspot.com/2021/11/the-sociology-of-nicolas-cage.html Retrieved on 5/11/26

___________ 2025. “When Reality is Stranger than (Dystopian) Fiction: The Narrowing Gap between Narrative Dystopias and Trump-Era Policies.” in The Sociologist’s Dojo retrieved at  https://thesociologistsdojo.blogspot.com/2025/08/when-reality-is-stranger-than-dystopian.html Retrieved on: 5/15/2026

___________ 2026. "I Will Not See The White City Fall:" Billionaire's Obsession with 'The Lord of the Rings' and the Cultural Laundering of White Supremacy through Tolkien's Trilogy” in The Sociologist’s Dojo retrieved at: https://thesociologistsdojo.blogspot.com/2026/03/i-will-not-see-white-city-fall.html Retrieved on 5/16/2026

Bourdieu, Pierre 1987. Distinction: A Social Critique on the Judgement of Taste Boston: Harvard University Press

Cooley C.H. 1983. Human Nature and the Social Order New York: Routledge

Driessens, Oliver 2013. “Celebrity capital: Redefining celebrity using field theory” in Theory and Society 42(5) pp 543-560 retrieved at https://www.researchgate.net/publication/258377783_Celebrity_capital_Redefining_celebrity_using_field_theory Retrieved on 5/19/26

Gale Keen, Richard, Monica McCoy and Elizabeth Powell-Dunaway 2012. “Rooting for the Bad Guy: Psychological Perspectives” in Studies in Popular Culture 34(2) 129-148 Retrieved at https://www.researchgate.net/publication/260142449_Rooting_for_the_Bad_Guy_Psychological_Perspectives Retrieved on 5/14/2026

Goffman, Erving 1959.  The Presentation in Everyday Life New York: Anchor Books

Hakim, Cathrine 2010. “Erotic Capital” in European Sociological Review 26 (5) pp 499-518 DOI:10.1093/esr/jcq014

Lasch, Christopher 1979. The Culture of Narcissism: An American Life in An Age of Diminishing Expectation New York: W.W. Norton Company

Simi, Pete and Robert Futrell 2024. American Swastika: Inside the White Power Movement’s Hidden Spaces of Hate. New York: Rowman and Littlefield

Stanley, Jason 2020. How Fascism Works: The Politics of Us and Them. New York: Random House



[1] Though one could argue that the code itself fits that description with all of its restrictions on sex.

[2] Christian white supremacists have to keep the races pure after all

[3]  Mini Rant, and some spoilers for Invincible both the comic and the animated series: One villain redemption arc that I have been happy with has been Nolan Grayson Omni-man. Whereas the comics truncated this arc and made his overall redemption happen quickly, the show is taking its time and letting Nolan feel the weight of his actions. In season 4, when Nolan confronts Debbie (the first time after his murderous rampage at the end of season one that resulted in thousands of lives lost and her son, Mark beaten near death) unlike in the comics that sees their reconciliation happen over a quick three panel spread; the show is more cutting. In some of the most brilliant writing I have seen in the show, depicts Debbie rightfully laying into Nolan forcing him to realize that forgiveness and accountability can mutually exclusive. Unfortunately, after this scene they started to lay the foundation for Nolan and Debbie’s reconciliation. I aggressively don’t want that. I understand that redemption arcs can be done, and horrible characters can learn from their mistakes. But that doesn’t mean that all relationships can be mended. I believe that Nolan has cause Debbie such irreparable damage that their relationship is permanently obliterated. If they get back together, like they did in the comics, no matter how long it takes, it will seem disingenuous End of rant.     


Friday, May 1, 2026

The Films of Julia Ducournau: Alpha

 


            The third film in my analysis of the films of Julia Ducournau is the allegorically harrowing Alpha. This Palme d’Or nominated film reaches back into the recent past, to bring AIDS and gay panic once again to the forefront, simultaneously intertwining COVID and trans panic into a salient cultural metaphor for our current context. While the overall application of this metaphor is clunky and less focused than in her previous work, Ducournau crafts a visually arresting film with a captivating narrative that seizes the viewer. This brief paper will engage in the historical underpinnings of Ducournau’s pandemic analogy and its similarities with other historical events, while contemplating the film’s conceit that grief is a Durkheimian “social fact”.

 


PLOT

            When Alpha (Melissa Boros), a 13-year-old second generation Algerian immigrant, living in the north of France, gets a homemade tattoo at a party, her Doctor mother (Golshifteh Farahani) fears she may have contracted a new devastating blood born disease that slowly turns the body to stone. The same one that took her Uncle Amin (Tahar Rahim). As they wait for the test results, Alpha gets bullied and ostracized in school while the mother and daughter pair begin to be haunted by Amin. A spectral vision induced by the emotional volatility of the situation and the trauma surrounding Amin’s death 8 years prior. The question is, can both mother and daughter be able to move past this grief, or shall it consume them in a “red wind” storm.



 

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

 Ducournau’s third feature cements her visual and storytelling style. Like her previous installments, Alpha weaves a narrative that intersects time periods in a nonlinear structure. Jumping back and forth in time to increase tension around a traumatically transformative event, parallels the social reaction to major health scares and outbreaks over the last 45 years. This section will engage the similarities between the events depicted and the variety of health crises we have experienced in the last half-century; including the scapegoating of the ill, and the socio-political polarization in the wake of each tragedy.

From AIDS to COVID    

Ducournau refreshingly does not specify a particular time period in which Alpha takes place. Instead, she leaves context clues through car models, clothing, building architecture, and a lack of modern technology that indicates the film taking place prior to the turn of the 21st century. This adds credibility to the marble disease in the film being a narrative allegory for HIV/AIDS (Human Immunodeficiency Virus/ Auto Immune Deficiency Syndrome) which was first identified and garnered increasing attention beginning in 1981.

All those who lived through this period, and were aware,[1]were affected by the HIV/AIDS epidemic. Global fear gripped nations. That fear led to the scapegoating and vilifying of the LGBTQAI+ community in ways the current Queer youth may think hyperbolic, but were all vitriolically and venomously validated by both the general public and the broader social institutions at the time. According to Halkitis (2019), the overt homophobia that both preceded and followed the HIV/AIDS crisis, contributed to the prolonged suffering of the community. Because some of the early cases of what would eventually be called HIV/AIDS were first found in gay men, that gave the vocal supporters of religious and anti-gay policies justification to condemn the LGBTQAI+ community as immoral and feel vindication in their bigotry. This is reflected in the CDC first labeling the disease GRID (Gay Related Immunodeficiency).  The misinformation that followed, allowed for a lack of Government support services in the community, forcing a grass roots information campaigns and outreach that saved lives. The Government eventually came around to disseminating the information about the disease and started to pay (a modicum of) attention to this issue; primarily because it started to show up outside of the LGBTQAI+ community, moved beyond drug addicts and in addition to those needing blood transfusions. At the time, the Queer community constructed best practices (which included condom use, and disclosure of sexual partnership) various organizations, and a helpline. Those grassroots behaviors that were born out of necessity in the face of institutional apathy, became foundational to the Government’s response to the crisis. This was extended around the globe but no more so than in African countries where cultural norms and superstitions about virginal sex as a cure, allowed the disease to spread quickly.

              The disease’s origin and the communities around where it initially spread fueled racist, homophobic and classist discrimination. This vacillated from ignorance and violent intolerance to describing AIDS as a “deserved” biblical genocide.  This was all in service of minimizing government involvement by defining the core of the issue as a personal choice. “Culture” and “lifestyle choices” were used as a political dog whistle to mean non-white (specifically Black) and gay. Meanwhile, drug addiction was framed as poor financial choices. This tendency to identify social problems, as a personal problem, is consistent with the white cis/het supremacy that founded the United States; allowing for a dehumanization of these groups. This continued for decades as these groups were perceived as a threat to the foundational core identity of upwardly mobile, productive able-bodied, straight white men. The accusation of anything else is met with violence, ridicule and ostracization. During the height of infection, AIDS was removed from obituary causes of death (along with any same sex partners); labeling it instead as the illness contracted after the individual was immunocompromised.    

As an allegory, The Marbling disease in Alpha functions in a similar fashion both medically and socially to HIV/AIDS:

·         The disease is depicted to be transmitted by blood or sexual fluids

·         The characters we follow that contract the disease are shown to either share needles for drugs or tattooing, or it is heavily implied that they are gay (Both Alpha’s teacher and her Uncle Amin).

·         Once Alpha is suspected by her classmates, she is ostracized. Students flee the pool in a panic when Alpha bleeds in the water and move out of her way as she walks into the classroom.

·         In scenes where the public interacts with people with this disease, there is palpable fear and distancing from the person. One person allowing someone who contracted the virus to sit next to them by offhandedly saying that “It’s fine. I’m dead anyway.”   

·         Much like the cultural norms, misinformation and superstition that allowed for HIV/AIDS to spread in African Countries, Alpha’s Grandmother, an Algerian immigrant talks about “The Red Wind” that gets trapped in the body, and the only way to fix it is to pray, bathe and drink lots of water

Because Durcournau was writing and shooting this film in 2024, it is difficult to not also make a connection to our more recent pandemic, COVID-19, and the lessons that we learned (or more likely did not learn) in the years in between.

            The commonality between all major global events, be they pandemic, World War or economic crisis, is that, in order to overcome the horrific event(s) there needs to be an intersection between every observable/measurable aspect of a society from the Micro (individual) level, the Mezzo (community/group level) and the Macro (Institutional Global level). During wartime, it was the interlocking mechanism of civilian industrial logistics and the military war effort. During an economic crisis there are government subsidies, bailouts and one instance of an increase in a variety of social programs (New Deal). With pandemics, the Government would work on developing a vaccine and make it readily available to everyone (thus eating the cost) then give every household an amount of money to stay at home and where masks in public to stop the spread.  In hindsight, writing this 6+ years after the initial lockdown orders of 2020, while these things did eventually happen, and we reached the desired (but tenuous) threshold of vaccine parity (that may now be put in jeopardy given new 2026 guidelines), we still had to go through a period of anomie.

            Anomie is a Durkheimian term to mean normlessness or chaos. Societal periods of anomie typically arise during periods of social change during a transition between either a type and/or form of leadership. Minor forms of anomie take place during the change of leadership within an established system. For example, a new political party leadership in positions of established power. The focused emphasis and exercise of that power is going to be different, but it is (supposedly) not going to deconstruct the entire system itself. The normlessness experienced here is in the unknown way the new authority will exercise their established power. Major Anomie is where there is a break in the fundamental structures of power. Where the system that delegates and defines that power is removed. This may lead to anarchy, causing the established institutions to crumble, becoming then a steppingstone to a greater anomic effect as the established norms that allow for a civil society are obliterated. And because there are no longer established and agreed upon rules for any type of interaction, all interaction is thereby organized through a lens of acute individualism; making all communication and decision making transactional.

            During the pandemic lockdown, this anomic period was fueled by inherent racism and misogyny that we’ve established in the US since its founding. There was a class divide that caused the experiences of white-collar workers to be able to weather the lockdown easier than others whose jobs could not be completed from home. People of color were disproportionally a part of the workforce that were identified as essential workers (from nurses and doctors to food service workers), and because women are more likely to be members of the part time service industry, they too were unfairly put on the front lines of labor. This was especially significant because we did not have a working vaccine at the time. This period of normlessness also fueled conspiracy theories about bleach, and horse dewormer; which was moving people away from necessary behavioral change and into fear induced apathy.

            This anomie that we felt was also politically weaponized as the mask mandates and lockdown orders came about. The inability for some to accept that this was happening became a point of political manipulation to pry apart social solidarity, and for the Trump administration at the time to maintain power. In addition to peddling the conspiracy theories mentioned above, Trump stated that he believed it would just go away. He actively attempted to gaslight the American people into believing that COVID wasn’t serious. He defied his own mask mandate orders, repeatedly not wearing a mask or taking off the mask in public. This caused several of his supporters to protest the mandates with their guns in their local cities. Trump hid his own infection with COVID, twice. Once during the first presidential debate with opponent Joe Biden, and again during the confirmation announcement of Amy Comey Barrett; thinking that he’d seem weak if he was wearing a mask or taking his health seriously.  The bungling of the COVID-19 responses which contributed to over 1 million American’s dead, was the major factor that cost Trump the election in 2020.         

Ducournau embraces this anomic vibe and uses the unrest witnessed during these two historical crises (HIV/AIDS and COVID) as a backdrop; and unspoken tension that exists in every scene. There are displays of fear and panic that are based in entrenched bigotry but thinly obfuscated as legitimate individual concern. When Alpha confronts the boy she’s seeing about their similar tattoos, he sheepishly admits that he received his tattoo right after her; the same night, with the same needle. When Alpha asks why he did not speak up when he saw that she was being bullied, he demures, indicating that he did not want their classmate’s ire to fall on him.  Here, Ducournau illustrates the hollow rationalization of dehumanization justified by a medical crisis that both reinforces the narcissistic urge of self-preservation, and a desire for social acceptance. Rather than stand in solidarity with Alpha, he allowed peer group socialization to guide his choices and behavior. Granted, during this time of middle school, the social pressure to conform to your peer /friend group is considerably gargantuan. Nevertheless, it was clear through his depiction, and how he treated Alpha, that his caginess around Alpha’s potential illness wasn’t just to protect himself from social ridicule, but to also gain sexual favors from Alpha (kissing in bathrooms and nearly having intercourse in his bedroom).

Mini rant: How Child sexualization on screen contributes to pedophilia

 As an aside: much in the same way I am hard pressed to know the social and political intention of a piece of pop culture because I do not know how that culture is going to be consumed, so too do I bristle at the inclusion of childhood sexuality in coming-of-age films. Especially when they are explicit or contain nakedness of any kind. I question both the purpose and the audience. How does it serve the story, and what is the overall point? Who does this service? Because it doesn’t seem like it is serving the story, the audience, or the actors involved.

I directly questioned the depiction of child sexual behavior in my previous essay on Water Lillies by Celine Sciamma back in 2024. Like Sciamma, Ducournau cast an adult actress to play younger (Melissa Boros was 19 playing Alpha at 13), and while Ducournau did not personally sexualize her main lead, as Sciamma did in her film, she did have a significant development gap between the actor and the age she was portraying. Considering the wide variance in development among girls, there is some authenticity to a “more mature” looking 13-year-old. Yet, to depict them as being in intimate scenarios when they are depicted by someone older, increases the likelihood of their sexualization by the audience and contributes to the normalization of pedophilia.

Regardless of sexuality being a legitimate part of the coming-of-age story, there is a gulf of a difference between including the turmoil of rising sexual feelings and the depiction of sex and nudity amongst characters that are underage. The former is valid, while the latter is exploitatively pedophilic.  It continues the “adultification” of girls on screen and contributes to the sexual objectification of girls in public, which happens so early and with such frequency as it does, that it doesn’t need assistance from the cinema.  

 


SOCIAL ANALYSIS            

The sociological question that Ducournau asks, outside of the allegorical representation of historic medical crises, is the value and interpersonal impacts of generational grief. What does it mean when an individual can’t let go, or someone cannot get past the worst time of their life? Narratively, this is unique as few films explore the failings of a protagonist to find solace or redemption. The primary reason being that people have been conditioned through generations of storytelling to value character arcs that show growth and moving past that point of pain. Generally, it is desirable to see characters that are not in the same place at the end of a story as they were at the beginning. This change shows both acknowledgement of, and a reward for, the investment of time the audience puts into watching the story unfold. It minimizes disappointment. Rare are films that show characters with an inability to grow. When they are depicted, it is usually a moral failing, a cautionary tale. It is something to learn from, so that unlike these characters, audience members can move on; and hold on to hope for something better. However, this messaging becomes muddled with the realities of grief and the way that people engage with it, and the societal expectation of grief and its processes. Few realize that grief is a social fact.

 Grief as a Social Fact

A social fact is clearly defined as any way of acting that is fixed or not, capable of exerting over an individual an external constraint or that which is generated over the whole of a given society whist having an existence of its own, independent of its individual manifestations (Durkheim 1982:59)

   A social fact has three components to it:

1.       Externality: to exist outside of something (prior or outside of the individual) something that we learn through the process of socialization (e.g. language)

2.       Constraint: puts forth a compelling force or coercive power over individuals. It sets limits and constraints on people

3.       Generality: This is something that is widespread that has been deeply rooted in the cultural norms of a group or society, to the point that they are seen as natural.

Grief is an emotion that is felt by a variety of living creatures; not just humans. It exists outside of any one person, even though every person can experience it. Grief continues even if people don’t. Ironically, it is the emotional vacuum experienced after the loss of someone else that propels grief amongst a populace. Grief exists within the individual, and amongst the people. Both inside and outside the person. Externality. Those that have experienced grief understand how it may manifest as psychological and social shackles that keep individuals inert. The cinematic language used to explain grief is one of a barrier. It is consistently manifested as a hindrance; keeping something or someone from “moving on”. That “moving on” is also always presented as something good. This once again frames progress as linear and positive; because it is assumed, where you are, is never where you want to stay. Especially in narrative storytelling, grief is an albatross that must be cast off. Constraint. Since all humans and many nonhumans experience grief, it is an emotion that is ritualistically self-generating within our society. The experience of grief is not novel or unexpected, it is nuanced to the social, cultural and historical context in which it is experienced. We create rituals as a method to “process” our grief. Funerals and other collective experiences around death are not for the corpse, but for the collective conscience. It is a natural part of understanding life. Generality. Yet just because grief can be understood as a social fact, does not mean that its inevitability is how grief is neither conditioned nor socially experienced.

Socially, grief is understood through a capitalist lens. It is a barrier that one must overcome or circumvent to have “grown”. This is measured by our ability to look back on that time of grief and value it for allowing us to be where we are in the present. We understand this in very pro-capitalist economic terms: the process of grief, our progress from it, and the growth or “profit” from experiencing it. In this, grief is transactional. This understanding of grief is reinforced through cinema.

In cinema, grief is mainly played as a constraint. It is the source of tension and conflict from which the filmmakers can create drama, stakes, and thus, audience investment (again a capitalist frame). Therefore, to see a return on that investment, the conflict must be resolved, the constraint removed, evaded or abated. Unfortunately, the consumption of these types of stories through this lens conditions us through the process of socialization to define grief as being fundamentally temporary (again, framed as a process) its resolution an inevitability. Additionally, that conclusion is reached with fundamental ease and speed (about the length of a feature film). While, conceptually, we understand that is not how the actual experience of grief works (emotional experiences in humans tend to exist nonlinearly), it creates a social expectation in individuals, organizations, and the social institutions in which we live, to exist as such.

 The United States being a capitalist society, we’ve framed our social and institutional interactions through the economic language of profit to be transitory and transactional. Thus, the Marxian notion of commodification provides an understanding that everything in human life, even the experiences of our emotions, can be bought, sold, traded or exchanged; grief included. Grief then becomes commodified. Usually manifesting in the form of self-help books with a variety of coping strategies, self-care routines, pharmacology and therapies. Access to these manifestations is not all equally distributed, with some groups, usually those with greater wealth, being able to acquire more than those who do not. Regardless, what often is overlooked is that there is always a societal time limit to grief.

In a capitalist system like the US, grief is assigned a value and is considered a commodified resource. The misery of others is publicly traded, and their recovery is profited from. It is cyclical as opposed to perpetually linear. This is contradictory to the common assumption that sustained grief should be desired for profit. Epitomized by the notion that therapy is never over. The rationalization being that there is always something about yourself that you need to work on (a notion that flies in the face of a therapeutic understanding based on having goals that you want to achieve; and once achieved, the therapy ends). Thus, a time limit to grief seems anti-capitalistic…until you factor in productivity.

Capitalism is an economic system that dehumanizes. It is amoral and apathetic. It does not care about the physical, mental and emotional wellbeing of its workers. Thus, the arresting power of grief, halts productivity. The work never stops because the profit cannot abide a limit (Marx 1993). Therefore, there are constraints put on grief. No matter how generous the healthcare plan, no matter how understanding your boss, emotionally supportive coworkers, family and friends are, there is a variety of societal limits to grief’s expression.

Grief is allowed to be intense at the outset, with strong emotional support and a variety of empathetic gestures. But the greater the temporal distance from the grief causing event, the quicker the societal acceptance and behavioral latitude evaporates; replaced by an expectation to move past it and become productive again. Once that time is reached, grief is perceived as an individual and moral failing. Characterizing the person as broken if they cannot get back to their previous productive self. Criticized as being “stuck in the past.”

This understanding of the social conditions of grief is taught through the consumption of cinema. As we engage with a plethora of stories that champion the power of the human spirit to overcome adversity, and to not succumb to trauma, nor the grief and loneliness that accompanies it. We reinforce the social condition that grief is not only a social fact, and a normal part of existence, but as something that we inevitably have to overcome multiple times throughout our lives in order to simply exist within society. We also learn that shame, ridicule and ostracization follows those who cannot defeat grief. This results in people masking and self-medicating their grief. They realize that so long as you are still able to participate in the system, you are left alone (to “not be ok”). You are allowed to be mentally and emotionally broken so long as you are undisruptively productive. Thus, we are given several cinematic depictions of functioning broken people. If they do not improve by the time credits roll, they learn to mask convincingly enough to allow the audience to assume a happy ending; even when that may betray the context of the film itself.  Film in this context then becomes one way in which the acceptable image of grief is laundered. It hides the limits of grief within a capitalist society, creating a culture that sees grief as an aberration, and those that can’t control it, as failures. Ducournau’s Alpha is an exception.

In Alpha, grief is cinematically manifested in the character of Uncle Amin. The audience is introduced to Amin as an intrusion into the lives of Alpha and her mother.  Alpha is noticeably concerned, considering that she has no recollection of who he is at first introduction (occupying her room). This is despite his protests that they know each other quite well, and she was just too young to remember. As her mother returns home, she is uncharacteristically accommodating to her brother whom, as we see in flashbacks, is a drug addict. On numerous occasions, the film shows Alpha’s mother resuscitating him after various overdoses. A flashback to when Alpha was five, reveals that Amin had contracted the virus. He then decides to take Alpha to buy drugs so he can overdose and die on his own terms. When Alpha’s mom catches him in the act, she resigns to assisting him. But as he passes out, Alpha’s mother revives him again, unable to let him go. Eventually, Amin, after a painfully long process, succumbs to the disease and is turned into a marble statue.

Since the film is told in overlapping flashbacks, the story moves linearly but jumps between past and present towards the same event (the inciting incident). Ducournau builds to the moment that traumatized both mother and daughter: their collective assistance in Amin’s attempted suicide. Alpha’s mom administering the lethal dose and Alpha’s promise to make sure Amin doesn’t wake up. This schism results in his haunting of them; a manifestation of their unresolved grief. The mother, unable to let go of her brother, and the feelings of failure from Alpha for not being able to teach her mother to let go. This culminates at the end of the film when Alpha declares that Uncle Amin can’t be with them anymore. At films end, Alpha looks on as her mother and Uncle begin to walk toward the house. Suddenly, the spirit of Amin crumbles, carried off by the wind. Her mother screams, left with nothing but anguish.

A more hopeful interpretation of this final scene is that it is a turning point in the relationship between Alpha and her mother, that they are no longer haunted by the specter of their dead loved one. However, there has been nothing to suggest that growth in any of the preceding scenes. Alpha’s recovery of her lost memories and declaration to overcome grief has no practical weight to it. Given the context of the entire film that proceeded it, it is more likely that this is the start of another grief cycle for Alpha’s mother. Stuck resurrecting the memory of her brother in her own mind because she could not bring him back to life. Grief is a social fact, and for some, it becomes the only truth.



    

CONCLUSION

            Alpha is a film that competently provides a historical allegory for the HIV/AIDS crisis with Ducournau’s wonderful body-horrific flare. Yet, the film seems like an allegory in search of a story. The metaphors were so bluntly heavy handed that the narrative wasn’t cohesively held together in the same way as her previous work. However, where this film shines is in its meditation on grief and its circumventive subversion of audience expectations. We expect the narrative arc to the expiration of grief, the conquering of loss and a rebounding acceptance of life. Instead, this film shows us that somethings aren’t overcome, they are adapted to and lived with. An infrequent lesson that is as equally important as its rosier alternative.  

 

REFERENCES

Durkheim, Emile 1982. The Rules of Sociological Method and selected text on Sociology and its Method. New York: The Free Press  

Halkitis, Perry N. 2019 “The Stonewall Riots, the AIDS Epidemic, and the Public’s Health” in The American Journal of Public Health 109(6):pp 851–852. Retrieved on 4/18/26 Retrieved at https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC6507988/

Marx, Karl 1993. Grundrisse: Foundations of the Critique of Political Economy New York: Penguin Classics     



[1]  Some of us were children. Many of us had the privilege to be kept ignorant of both the severity and the horrors of death the disease brought at the time