The Films of Julia Ducournau: Titane

            The second film in my analysis of The Films of Julia Ducournau is the genre-bending body horror thriller, Titane. Ducournau’s sophomore feature seems to crystalize and extend both the themes and the visuals she is interested in as a storyteller into a specified shape. The gendering of women and the patriarchal attempt to tame them, aging masculinity and the sense of identity loss that accompanies it, are present in this Palm d’Or winning wild wretched tale whose production was halted by the COVID Lockdown. This brief paper is a deconstruction of Ducournau’s second film as a cultural product; questioning the historical parallels of the anti-trans legislation at the time, with the films own complicated take on Trans issues and gender messaging; while examining the production and the overall craft of the film with the filmmaker’s desire to have this film be received as a story about unconditional love and acceptance.

 

PLOT

After young Alexia survives a car accident as a child, she develops mechaphilia and a penchant for murder. After committing a series of murders and a “one-night stand” with a Cadillac, Alexia flees. She alters her appearance to look like a lost boy and assumes his identity and is reunited with his father, Vincent. This ruse proves difficult to sustain as Alexia finds that she is rapidly progressing in pregnancy with an amalgamated mutant of her erotic dalliance with a car. As her new relationships are tested, both Vincent and Alexia must trust one another and decide if the lies between them matter less than the familial love they found between them.

 

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

            Both Titane, and Ducournau as a writer/director, were met with great acclaim while simultaneously bogged down by the challenges of an industry shut down due to a global pandemic. Additionally, a particular reading of the film correlates to trans discrimination bills and anti-trans rhetoric going on at the center of 2021 when the film was in production. This section intends to analyze these events and the perceived effect on the film. By placing it in a particular historical context, a richer understanding of the film as a cultural product can be achieved.

            Production

            One of the points of inception for Titane’s plot came to director Julia Ducournau in a dream. She would have a recurring nightmare about giving birth to engine parts. This recursion caused Ducournau to formulate the film’s ending and work backward from there. In the process of reverse engineering a story from the surreality of vehicular excision from the body, Ducournau took on an existential approach thinking about the metaphor of transformations and metamorphoses to get to the next stage of hybridization. Ducournau’s dream laid the foundation for this duality that she eventually would want to explore further: the warmth of giving birth and bringing life with the contrast of the metal representing lifelessness; cold and dark.

            In 2018, as the script was beginning to take shape, Ducournau had dinner with actor Vincent Lindon and mentioned to him that she had a part she was writing for him. In interviews, Lindon recalls not knowing if this was a pleasantry or an actual offer. Vincent waited for secondary confirmation before committing and then waited another two years before getting the script.

Titane marks the feature film debut of Agathe Rousselle (Alexia) who got a message on Instagram that she should audition for the film’s main protagonist. The film was so technical that there could be no space for improvisation. The role was also physically demanding, with both nudity, action and the willingness to masculinely present as a guy.  These demands that would have shaken a seasoned actor let alone a novice. And yet, Rousselle took it in stride and great care in crafting the role.

Titane was set to begin production in April 2020. Because of the lockdown orders that spanned the globe, the film began filming in September of that year, following all of the protocols and procedures of film production at a time when there were no vaccines on the horizon. Luckily, much of the film is centralized around the interplay between two characters, and they do not interact with too many more people outside of themselves. While it is easy to frame Titane as “a pandemic film” because it:

·                 Was shot in a single or multiple isolated locations.

·                 Involved few actors

·                 Blocked scenes with three or fewer people interacting at a time

·                 Had a limited crew  

·                 Included camera techniques to try to make up for the production difficulties

By looking deeper, the text of Titane also speaks to its position as “a pandemic film” because the themes of the film speak to the fragility of the human body and the thin veneer of health and wellness which we learned through the pandemic we hold in a tenuous slipping grasp. Even though this film is not about a global pandemic, the body horror aspects of the film remind us of the same vulnerability during COVID.

           

A consistent influence and paragogic mentor for Ducournau has always been David Cronenberg. While there are homages to his early body horror work in Raw, Titane draws heavily from Cronenberg’s much maligned film Crash, a relatively obscure movie about a group of car accident survivors that start to develop mechaphilia and a kink for car crashes. The way that Cronenberg shoots both the human body and the body of the car, echoes in Titane’s opening as the camera moves from underneath the car, looking at its different parts, before we go inside the cabin. This detail is mirrored by the camera as it follows Alexia through the showroom at the beginning of the film, revealing both Alexia and the glossy polish of engine parts of a car being sold. Alexia and the car begin as separate beings, but throughout the film, they start to merge. In Cronenberg’s Crash, that merging happens at the onset of the vehicular accidents caused during coitus; the survivors growing more machine-like with every collision. Titane takes this merging to be metaphysical, as the amalgamation is triggered by vehicular coitus and represented by the child of that union.

As the film was released on the festival circuit it garnered early buzz given its provocative premise and enigmatically shocking sequences. As the film was set to premiere at Cannes, it ended up taking the prestigious Palm d’Or. Infamously, this revelation was spoiled early by Spike Lee, who mistook first prize for first place, confusing Titane to be the runner up, rather than the winner. Regardless of the flub, Ducournau’s spirits did not dampen as she was, at the time, only the second woman to win the award and the first to win it alone. In that, Ducournau and Titane break both genre boundaries and glass ceilings in equal measure. Yet, the win was not unanimous, many on the Jury finding the film too avant-garde, often leaning into the anti-horror bias that is common in prestigious film festivals (Ben-hadj, 2021).  The genre being once again marred by derogatory labels of shlocky, popcorn, pedestrian, campy etc. Ironically, the rise and embrace of “elevated horror” as a concept redraws the boundaries of class culture within the genre. There are certain stories, because of its material or the auteur status of its director, that have been accepted by the elite class at regulating agencies, like festivals, which instead of balancing the genre scales, put their finger on it; making sure to gate keep horror, keeping it in its place. Ducournau winning the Palm d’Or, especially with a film as wild as Titane, is hopefully a turning point in allowing the eclectic messiness often found in horror to permeate the prestigious parts of the industry, causing a shift in both how horror is perceived, and the talent of those who create it.    

 

            The LGBTQAI Community in Crisis

            Sexuality outside of the white heteronormative cisgendered ableist capitalist patriarchy has always been marginalized (hooks 2000). The problem arises not in their existence, which has been a constant state in human civilizations (and documented in non-human animal species), but in a ridged latticework that is overlayed atop the naturally created universal spectrum of human diversity and identity. The mechanisms of control that create this caustically hostile system has its roots in historical institutional structures and cultural power dynamics that make it difficult to unearth, and whenever there is an attempt, those roots entangle themselves; knotting into a convoluted network that sinks deep into psyches, that is then lightly reinforced at dinner tables or behind closed doors, in court room decisions, in jury boxes, and store “etiquette”. It is hiding in plain sight, (not so) difficult to detect, more likely ignored, until those discriminatory branches decide to sprout.

            Most marginalized groups that have been othered by this wealthy white supremacist heteronormative ageist cisgendered ableist patriarchy have gone through periods of oppression with glimpses of social justice. Whether by race, gender, social class, or disability, all have experienced some amounts of recurrent and worsening oppression with tiny moments of equality and equity through civil rights and social justice movements;[1] only to have it possibly ripped away.     

            The 2000’s in the US, long after Stonewall, the scapegoating of LGBTQAI for the AIDS epidemic, and the consistency of media tropes that liked to murder gays and lesbians to punish them for their sexuality, non-heterosexual individuals started to be more prominently present in media portrayals and with their sexuality not being their defining characteristic. By 2010, homonormativity was becoming a consistent relationship structure in many media portrayals. Similarly, In the US Court System, cases were heard and laws changed that brought the LGBTQAI community more equity: Lawrence v. Texas in 2003 struct down sodomy laws (of which 29 states and 5 territories at the time had already repealed their laws), 2011 saw the repeal of the “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy for non-heterosexuals in the military, in 2015, with Obergfell v Hodges, the Supreme Court ruled that states must license and recognize same sex marriage in the entire country by ruling that Section three of the Defense of Marriage Act was considered unconstitutional. The most recent civil rights decision by the Supreme Court for the LGBTQAI community came in 2020 with Bostock v. Clayton where the court held that Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which protects people from workplace discrimination, applied to sexual orientation and gender identity.

            In France at the time, gay marriage was legal, same sex adoption was possible, and lesbians had access to reproductive technology. The country had relatively strong discrimination protections, school support, and hate crime legislation. However, since 2018, there has been a rise in attacks and rhetoric against Trans individuals.  Similarly, just as Titane was entering the festival circuit, the newest version of The Equity Act was introduced to US Congress. This bill had the intention of prohibiting discrimination based on sex, gender identity and sexual orientation. The bill passed the House by a narrow margin and went to the Senate; but could not overcome the filibuster. This loss then became a Harbinger of policies and ordinances that have sprouted up to put a strangle hold onto the equity by orientation. In the US, 79 measures and bills were introduced in 2021 alone that restricted or revoked Trans rights or access to trans care; including medical care and a ban on sports participation.

This culminated at the beginning of 2025 when the second Trump administration handed down executive orders that were exclusively transphobic.

On January 20, 2025, Upon returning to office, Donald Trump labeled Trans people “Gender Identity Extremism” and therefore Determined:

·         “Sex” shall refer to an immutable biological classification as either male or female all people should be classified through that lens

·         The term sex should be used in place of gender

·         Gender identity is a falsehood and disconnected from reality

·         Ended federal funding for any K-12 schools that promotes “gender ideology” (loosely defined)

·         Defunding and removal of Diversity Equity and Inclusion Courses

·         Denying access to Transition medication and Procedures  

            This cultural shift of Anti-LGBTQAI rhetoric and policies has begun to cascade over the shores of each country. Both Argentina and Hungry have followed the United States lead in becoming more conservative; banning femicide, blaming feminism, banning Pride, and using facial recognition software to round up those that attended. According to Brechenmacher (2025), this is a part of a new global wave of ANTI-LGBTQAI policies. But unlike previous movements, this new heteronormative resistance is organized and transnational. Social media and the internet allow for the mobilization and unification of desperate and fringe groups, amplifying alienated attitudes and minority opinions. Still, the Pew Research Center shows that over the last few decades, attitudes and behaviors have become more exclusive for trans people. Since 2022, more inclusive attitudes have soured into alignment with the policies that Donald Trump has enacted when he took office for his second term.

Brechenmacher (2025) states:

 “[These] new oppositional movements treat gender equality, feminism, and LGBTQ rights as existential threats to cultural and national integrity linked to globalization, Western liberalism, and the erosion of traditional authority. This shared worldview allows diverse actors—from right-wing populists in Europe to nationalist autocrats in Russia and China to conservative religious groups in Latin America and Africa—to coalesce around a common enemy. (3)”

Like many backlashes to progressive social movements, much of the resistance to these progressive policies is a resistance to change and the acquisition of power by women and non-heterosexual groups.

 In the US, the reasoning is twofold: Firstly, a lot of these conservative [read as narrow minded] beliefs do not have the strength of personal convictions. The only way that their policies can exist is if there is no opposition. They crumble at the first sight of criticism. Sure, they may deflect, produce scapegoats and be in denial, but the sanctity of their ideology cannot exist in a multicultural system that accepts and allows the fruition of equity and equality for all. The happiness, wellness and success of the LGBTQAI +community is abhorrent to the acutely religious conservatives that derive a sense of self from their God’s wrathful righteousness against those that He’d deem wicked. And, if the LGBTQAI+ community is allowed to be happy, healthy, successful and prosperous, that challenges their worldview and their religious identity to the core. This challenge is so visceral that they feel personally insulted by it. Therefore, the dehumanization of nonbinary, trans and everyone else on the gender and sexuality spectrum becomes a moral crusade. Conservatives often obfuscate their intentions by publicly stating that they are protecting children or girls.[2] Secondarily, considering that the gay hook-up app “Grindr” crashed due to overuse in Milwaukee during the Republican National Convention giving credence to the notion that many Religious conservative republicans are gay, but are closeted, illuminates their ire for the LGBTQAI+ community even further. Under this framing, the openness and joy with which non closeted members of the gender and sexuality spectrum live their lives as fully themselves, fosters a sense of resentment in the closeted conservative Christians. They are angry that they feel they cannot be as free as them. Thus, it’s the religious and sexual fragility of (typically) conservative Christian men which motivates anti-trans policies and the eradication of anything that isn’t within the gender binary.    

 

SOCIAL ANALYSIS     

            As a self-identified Feminist, most of Ducournau’s work intertwines themes of gender, sexuality, and representation. In Titane she cloaks those themes in the embodiment of a character that is difficult to empathize with. Without a sympathetic protagonist, it is difficult for the audience to invest in that character’s story. Thus, as Ducournau emphasizes a lot of feminist and gender related concepts presented through characters that audiences aren’t invested in, it causes those gender and feminist ideologies to be misinterpreted as the source of the character’s toxic traits (Bogutskaya 2023). By delivering these gendered themes in an unlikable package, Ducournau stretches the audience’s cinematic latitude of acceptance, challenging them not to project positive personality traits onto characters that embrace, embody, or express socio-political ideologies that they might agree with, while simultaneously punishing those characters for their rejection of patriarchal structure.

            The gendering and punishment of a subversive woman  

            The basic gender socialization of girls and women into a white heterosexist capitalist ableist patriarchy of the United States revolves around the value of their body and its importance to men [collectively, structurally]. The bifurcated message that girls learn, and women often internalize, is that they need to be an object of male sexual adulation and a vessel for the next generation through the process of reproduction. Succinctly, it is important for girls and women to perform duties we have associated with being a wife and mother in this misogynistic patriarchy.

Historically, these messages have shifted slightly. Our misogynistic culture has had to get creative to make sure that it consistently continues to produce women who will be support staff for men. Initially, we framed sex and sexuality through the lens of morality. Men were the only ones with the moral fortitude to engage in conversations of sex or be able to look at pornography without corruption. Meanwhile, any female interest in the subject and she was brandished a harlot. These are part of the sexual scripts of the patriarchy to limit female sexual agency and maintain a sense of control. “Good girls” were innocent, pure, virginal; while “bad girls” were the ones who were interested in sex or engaged in any kind of sexual behavior. Firstly, the paternalistic infantilism that was/is used when referring to women speaks to this overbearing misogyny that permeates the culture. Secondly, this Madonna/whore complex became the framing of women’s caged sexuality for generations, only to be unearthed by the Second wave Feminist movement’s push for contraception and the promotion of guilt free sex for women. The patriarchy had to pivot. The Madonna/Whore messaging changed from being either/or, to both. Essentially, girls and women need to exude both innocence and oversexed debauchery simultaneously, the only delineation being between public vs. private spaces. To the front facing public, women are to be the innocent, obedient moralist. But in private, they are encouraged to be sexually adventurous. To use a descriptive popular parlance: “A lady in the streets, but a freak in the sheets.” Granted, there may be a subculture or two (based in specific religious interpretations) that still engage in the Madonna/whore script in the traditional way: creating “purity tests” and making fathers be the gatekeepers of their daughters’ virginity, objectively giving it to a man he sees as worthy on their wedding day (Valenti 2009). But it is the amalgamated redux of the system that is currently the most prevalent gatekeeper of women’s sexuality.

Whether women are either supposed to be innocent completely, or only in the presence of others to project patriarchal passivity, it is still control through the lack of female agency. Women in either the original or “New Coke” version of the Madonna/whore complex are still engaging in sex for the purpose and pleasure of men. Sex, especially in the patriarchy is framed as a masculine event. This contributes to the orgasm gap between cisgendered men and women and frames women’s sexuality as relational and performative (Harvey, Jones and Copulsky 2023). This is the misogynistic framing of women’s sexuality as emotional labor for men, which women are compensated for through the power and autonomy they glean from their patriarchal bargain.

Women who perform these “wifely duties” of lover, then mother, can extract the illusion of agency, autonomy and independence they desire. This is what I deem as “Have-it-all Sexism.”

 As I explain in a previous essay from 2013:

"Have it all" Sexism is a term that refers to a new type of sexist female representation in the media that requires female characters that are shown to have careers (with varying degrees of power, agency and autonomy), or who are being portrayed as physically strong (or strong willed), must also identify (or in some cases learn to identify) with traditional female gender norms and scripts.  The message is that it is OK for girls to have agency and social power in our society so long as they don't forget that they also must be wives and mothers (i.e. sex objects and reproductive vessels.) This maintains the value of women to be in their body, and their representation as full and complete human beings is a distant second.”

In a misogynistic patriarchy, the only acceptable way to achieve independence and identity outside of the gendered roles women have been shackled to, is to fulfill those roles first and if there is any time, money, energy and effort left, then women can have a personality. A woman’s individuality and uniqueness is an ancillary addition that is not a part of their systemic patriarchal function. Any portrayal outside of this is summarily punished.

            Entertainment media is one mechanism by which women are both presented and policed. Socialized gender messages are taught and the consequences of not following or rejecting those messages are illustrated through a variety of stories. Here, the Madonna/whore binary (both original recipe and “extra misogyny”) is used as both paragon and criteria for punishment against those who resist.  According to Anna Bogutskaya (2023) this misogyny limits female representation, framing any character that isn’t promoting the patriarchy as “unlikeable”. They may be painted as too angry, too direct, too mean, too sexual, too disorganized, too unhinged, too aloof, or just too odd. These criticisms of character traits are then slyly and erroneously connected to left-leaning political ideologies and notions of liberation to reinforce patriarchal dominance.  Characters that spout clear feminist rhetoric about agency and equal treatment are deemed “crazy”.

““Crazy” is often the default insult for women who exist in ways that upset the status quo; women who have been hurt, women who are tired and overwhelmed, and women who suffer from any form of mental illness are lumped into this one big bag of “crazy””(Bogutskava 2023: 226). 

These portrayals are commodifications of women by the patriarchy to sell to men as:

·         Cautionary tales to create and maintain the heterosexist family unit fidelity  

·         Sexually desirable; a respite from the masculinely insecure emotional vacuum the Patriarchy traps men in.

·         A project they can fix.

Because the politics and ideals of feminism are patriarchally misinterpreted through the lens of unlikability, women’s independence, autonomy and individuality are perceived as a threat. Therefore, there is this misogynistic motivation in fiction and reality to take a single, successful, career-focused independent women and shackle them to the gender roles assigned to them as a form of punishment. (Bates 2020). While there have been several celebrities that this can be applied to; in fiction, this punishment is illustrated through a series of pregnancy tropes.  

 

            There are several media tropes that revolve around pregnancy, and all of them are designed to punish women. The most common trope is the mystical pregnancy. This is where a female character is either supernaturally inseminated by gods, spirits, or other mystical beings, or conceives naturally only to find that the pregnancy is otherworldly. Often this pregnancy is used as punishment for women’s transgressive independence. But through their loss of agency and experiencing the terror and humiliation of this natural body horror, their behavior can be corrected.[3]  In Titane, Alexia is an unlikeable character and therefore she gets punished with a mystical pregnancy that eventually kills her.

            The audience first meets Alexia (Agathe Rousselle) when she is a child, just before she is in a car accident with her father. It is heavily implied, though never stated, that the injuries that she sustained in the wreck motivated her psychopathy. When we meet up with her as an adult after the title sequence, we bear witness to her performative sexuality and a penchant for murder (the news reports indicating that she is a serial killer). These traits seemingly would place Alexia into the classical trope of “The Psycho” (Bogutskava 2023). Her violence is not generated by revenge or retribution for an assault (sexual or otherwise) and there is no inherent empathy we are supposed to have for the character. She is also charming, intelligent and easily offended (all traits of psychosis). According to Bogutskava (2023) this offense has a polymorphic trigger that is different for each media “Psycho”. For Hannibal Lecter it was rudeness. For Amy Dunne it was mediocrity. For Alexia, it is her vulnerability. Anytime that she feels like she gets close to any real emotion, she lashes out. Yet, the violence she commits is not without explanation. It can easily be traced back to the trauma of the car accident and the titanium plate in her head that is overly sensitive, and the source of her emotional detachment. So, it is difficult to say if Alexia fits Bogutskava’s (2023) trope of “The Psycho” completely, as she does not seem to fit all the criteria while embodying the impulsive messiness of the caricature. Still, Ducournau can’t help but punish Alexia with a mystical pregnancy, brought on by the mechaphilia Alexia developed after the accident.   

            Mechaphilia is an intense sexual arousal or attraction to machines. Alexia’s particular fixation is on cars. Therefore, the source of the mystical pregnancy punishment trope is her sex with a car.  In an elegantly lit, cinematically graceful, albeit protracted sequence; the audience witnesses a naked Alexia get inside a Cadillac and proceed to have sex with the car. It should be noted that Alexia, even though she freely enters the car, is a passive participant in the sexual encounter; wrapping the seat belts around her forearms as the car uses its hydraulics to create the motion of penetrative sex. Thankfully, we are spared any actual pornographic images of mechaphilic penetration, though Ducournau makes sure that we see the consequences of the act (bruising on Alexia’s thighs and a motor oil like secretion from her vagina that simulates car semen). This is the first level of punishment.

 Sexual humiliation of women is a popular form of mainstream pornography that depicts women being punched, slapped, spanked, made to cry, gag and brutalized through violent and extreme penetration; usually coupled with humiliating language designed to dehumanize and “other” the female participants (Lust 2010, Bates 2020). While there is legitimacy in a humiliation kink, the kind of humiliation described above is not about and does not involve consent nor depicting equal power for the pleasure of all parties. Instead, it is a way for men to re-establish dominance through the violent sexual humiliation of women, a toxically masculine reformation of male identity. In Titane, that toxic masculinity is represented by the Cadillac, and the ensuing violence brought upon Alexia through the sexual act is her penance for existing outside of the bounds of societal gender roles.

 The second punishment is the mystical pregnancy itself. Ducournau revels in depicting the “womb horror” castigation of pregnancy.  Given the mechaphillic conception, it is quickly apparent that Alexia is carrying a half human hybrid. The camera seems to revel in Alexia’s pain as it fixates on her transforming body: the growth of her titanium womb, the tearing of her skin, her lactation of oil and the agony she goes through trying to hide it from others. At the end of the film, Alexia is absolved for all of her “unlikeable” anti-masculine transgressions by succumbing to a violent death while giving birth; making sure that the final emotion she felt before death was an unending void of fear. Through this lens, by using such tropes, regardless of her intention, Ducournau contributes to the misogyny of patriarchy through the punishment of women that fail to follow or contribute to traditional societal gender norms.

   

       The Humiliation of Aging Masculinity

The first act of violence that patriarchy demands of males is not violence towards women. Instead, patriarchy demands of all males that they engage in acts of psychic self-mutilation., that they kill off the emotional parts of themselves (bell hooks 2004: 66)

            As girls and women are socialized to be wives and mothers, boys are socialized to be providers and protectors. They are socialized as rational, stoically emotionless and singularly focused beings. This masculinity is extremely fragile. A mannerism, improper word choice or drink selection, and the masculine gender identity built on sexual objectification of women, violence and emotional and physical durability, crumbles to dust. Its form and reformation need to be established within every social situation. Therefore, men are effectively chasing after masculinity, their own form of patriarchal cage unique to men (Walker 2020)[4]. Much of this masculinity is wrapped up in validation and valorizing of youthfulness. The desirable traits of masculinity are always framed through the lens of those in the symbolic springtime of age. Rarely do we get an image of aged masculinity that isn’t a preternatural, Uber masculine hyperbole of the already established traits of strength and power. We do not get an acceptable form of aged masculinity that isn’t melancholically pining for their lost virility, either in strength or sexual prowess. Aging for men, then becomes its own form of humiliation. The slow desiccation of abilities and mental acuity until their value and worth is atomized.

            Ducournau epitomizes the relationship between age and masculinity through Vincent’s narrative journey. An aging firefighter, Vincent struggles with his weaning strength and compounding PTSD brought on by decades of combating fire, and the grief over his lost son. His fear and loss of identity results in him becoming overbearingly authoritarian with other firefighters under his command (comparing himself to God and Adrian/Alexia as Jesus) and contributes to developing an addiction to steroids. Throughout the film, Vincent’s physical and emotional shortcomings are laid bare. It is through these failures that we understand and recognize why he is willing to actively delude himself into believing that Alexia is his long-lost son Adrien. With the loss of his perceived masculinity, and his failure to get it back through synthetic means, the only way for him to reclaim any semblance of masculinity is by holding onto his ability to be a protective father. Therefore, regardless of Alexia’s identity, the lie allows him to piece together the bits of his former masculinity that have withered away by age and inability. This is why he both lashes out whenever that lie is questioned, culminating in his line to Alexia: “I do not care who you are. To me, you will always be my son.” At the end of the film, that paternalistic purpose is refocused and realized as he commits to the protection of Alexia’s hybrid baby; by simply stating “I’m here.”      

 

            A Trans story of acceptance or a Symbolically anti-trans narrative?

            “Horror is a genre that encapsulated a lot of social anxieties. A lot of the things that we as a society are stressed about or uncertain about or titillated and tantalized by the transgressiveness of. Sexuality and gender nonconformity are common themes in horror. What are the images we are producing of these communities and what stereotypes are we using?” (Dr. Jaime Hartless on “Episode 18: Queer Representations of Horror” of The Sociologist’s Dojo Podcast  

 

            Horror has always been a bifurcated place for the LGBTQAI+ community. It has reproduced harmful stereotypes and subverted them, reinforced violence against the marginalized group and provided thoughtful critiques about the harm it causes. Horror has perpetuated and subverted all expectations. “Positive portrayals coexist with more potentially regressive ones that continue to associate queerness with evil.” (Hartless 2021: 5). Trans people especially have been underrepresented in horror and are often misrepresented when they are. From Sleepaway Camp, Psycho and Dress to Kill, to The Crying Game and The Silence of the Lambs trans people have historically portrayed the villain; but more nefariously, their villainous motivations were often framed as being derived from their gender and sexual “otherness”. However, as we have taken the slowest of baby steps toward a culture of trans acceptance (from which our current administration is taking strides away from), recently, more positive trans visibility has been seen. Even in the horror genre, there are several trans actors that are redefining their presence in the Horror landscape onscreen. Thus, as horror seems to have a history of being an exploitative carnival where cisgendered people can gawk, laugh and be terrified of the existence of those outside the binary, simultaneously, it has been at the forefront of trans representation, the conventions of the horror genre allowing for gender bending and boundary breaking behavior that can culminate into acceptance.

            A lot has been written about Titane as a trans narrative that swings the pendulum between  elation and revulsion. The film has been heralded by some as a wonderful transmasc love story of acceptance that provides a hopeful allegory for those still terrified to come out to their parents. While those more critical of the film see the inclusion of the trans identity as a plot device, the protagonist using gender deceit as a cover to avoid accountability. The copout is to say that this is a perfect example of why art is subjective; that it can mean anything to everyone, even the opposite. Yet sociologically it can be understood that two things can exist at the same time. These conflicting pro/Anti trans ideas run parallel with each other throughout the film. Ducournau gives just enough to allow for a dual reading of the film that both meets and subverts expectations. There are linear through lines that audience members can follow that will present a person coming into their own sense of self through a transmasc transformation from which the character finds unconditional love and acceptance for the first time. Conversely, there is also a complete throughline of a serial killer who is using a trans narrative as a method of escape and their frustration with having to hide their identity. However, there is also considerable evidence that suggests that Ducournau, understanding the way that the film could be interpreted, decided to first present the Trans identity as false, only becoming real through the love and acceptance Vincint gives to Alexia. In this sense, Alexia can’t fully embrace and accept their identity as Adrien until they felt safe to do so. Vincint gave them that space. The new identity is solidified when Adrien calls Vincint “Papa”. While this is undercut during the birthing scene where Adrien deadnames himself and re-identifies as Alexia, it still points to the social construction of sexuality and the gender fluidity of sexuality on screen.       

           

            The Redeeming Power of Unconditional Love

            Through the process of traditional, binary focused gender socialization, love is an emotion that is taught to be embraced by girls and women and barred by boys and men. Boys and men are taught to relinquish their love at adulthood and to calcify their emotional selves. Girls and women are taught to embrace love, as both their primary criteria when searching for a partner, and the abundant emotional commodity they sell through relationships. This again, is the way that a heterosexist capitalist patriarchy conditions cisgendered men and women into gender specific servitude; with neither being satisfied.     

            Within a general social order, love and affection are valorized through domestication. Sexuality gets refined into sublimation of love and the social order constructs it as only acceptable in private spaces, relegating and controlling sexual expression and legitimating it through love (Marcuse 1966). This focus on love is then translated to labor, and we then learn to love and enjoy work (often time as a representation of our identity) which helps to maintain social institutions and the order of a civilization (Marcuse 1966). Love then, especially for men, is weaponized and used to shore up the economy. Men start to see love as a type of satisfaction from work and the economic success that comes with it. bell hooks (2001) recognizes this as greed, a lust for money. This lust for money overtakes the love of others, as we are willing to put our lives in precarious positions, even those that are life threatening, for money. We cannot even escape the love of money when we seek love through partnerships. Capitalism has permeated every aspect of our culture, and so, when we are looking for companionship, we often view it through a capitalistic lens.

            According to hooks (2001)

        “When it comes to matters of the heart, we are encouraged to treat partners as though they are objects we can pick up, use, and then discard and depose of at will…When greedy consumption is the order of the day, dehumanization becomes acceptable” (p:115)

 

            After the accident, Alexia, through the function of her trauma, brain damage or both, looks at relationships as transactional. Faced with new experiences, she is unclear of how to act or how she is to respond. She does not know what she likes or what she wants. This lack of understanding of her body and her own desires causes her to lash out violently rather than deal with any kind of emotional complexity. Each sexual encounter is followed by violent murder. Yet, as she alters her identity to escape, she faces Vincent who gives her unconditional love and support regardless of her behavior. This is anathematic to Alexia’s transactional understanding, and she lashes out. Afterword, Vincent is still there, with comfort, stern safety, and sometimes tough love.

            When asked in interviews about the core message of the film, Ducournau consistently stated that it was unconditional love. The love between two broken people that heals them. Indeed, love has the power to change everything. The way that we see the past and live with it in a new way (hooks 2001). Alexia and Vincent find in each other a healing communion of love. Alexia finds the love and acceptance she has never experienced. Vincent finds a chance to end his heartache and fulfill his paternalistic drive. First to Alexia in the persona of Adrien, and then to her baby.  All they needed to receive was love, and that is the only thing Vincent had left to give.

 

CONCLUSION

            Julia Ducournau’s second film is not for the faint of heart, though heart it does have, deep in its viscera. Behind all of the serial killing mechaphillic feminine punishing, and possibly transphobic muddled messages, beats a story about acceptance and compassion. While all the themes that it presents aren’t equally fleshed out or serviced in equal measure, the amalgamated space of body and horror in which it lives allows the film to run on vibes, fuel and chrome. Thereby complicating our relationship with gender, ourselves and each other.   

 

RFERENCES

Bates, Laura 2020. Men Who Hate Women: From Incels to Pickup Artists: The Truth about Extreme Misogyny and How It Affects US All. Naperville. Source Books

Ben-Hadj, Emmanuelle 2021. “Making Room for Horror: The Adversity of Genre in the French Film Industry” PhD dissertation Deitrich School of Arts and Sciences University of Pittsburgh. https://d-scholarship.pitt.edu/41404/32/41404.pdf

Brechenmacher, Saskia 2025. “The New Global Struggle Over Gender, Rights, and Family Values” in the Democracy, Conflict and Governance Program at The Carnegie Endowment for International Peace Retrieved on 10/28/2025 Retrieved at https://carnegieendowment.org/research/2025/06/the-new-global-struggle-over-gender-rights-and-family-values?lang=en

Brutlag, Brian 2013. “Gender Representation in Disney’s ‘Frozen’ and Hollywood’s “girl” problem.” In The Sociologist’s Dojo  Retrieved on 11/1/2025 Retrieved at  https://thesociologistsdojo.blogspot.com/2013/12/gender-representation-in-disneys-frozen.html

___________ 2022. “Episode 18: Queer Representations of Horror with Dr. Jaime Hartless.” In The Sociologist’s Dojo Podcast Retrieved on 11/1/2025 Retrieved at: https://thesociologistsdojo.libsyn.com/episode-18-queer-representations-in-horror-with-dr-jaime-hartless

Bogutskaya, Anna 2023. Unlikable Female Characters: The women pop culture wants you to hate New York: Source Books.

Emanuelle Ben Hadj 2021. “Making Room for Horror: The Adversity of Genre in the French Film Industry” PhD dissertation. Detrich School of Arts and Sciences University of Pittsburgh Pennsylvania

Hartless, Jaime 2021.”Horror as a Pedagogical Tool for Teaching Sexualities” in Teaching Sociology pp 1-12 American Sociological Association.

Harvey, Penny, Erielle Jones and Daniel Copulsky 2023. “The Relational Nature of Gender, the Pervasiveness of Heteronormative Sexual Scripts, and the Impact on Sexual Pleasure.” In Archives of Sexual Behavior 52(3) pp-1195-1212.

hooks, bell 2000. Feminism is for Everybody Cambridge. South End Press

_________ 2001. All About Love: New Visions  New York: William and Morrow  

_________ 2004. The Will to Change: Men Masculinity and Love  New York: Washington Square Press

Lust, Erika 2010. Good Porn: A Woman’s guide  New York Seal Press

Marcuse, Herbert 1966. Eros and Civilization: A Philosophical Inquiry into Freud  Boston: Beacon Press

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

Walker, Alicia 2020. Chasing Masculinity: Men Validation and Infidelity New York: Palgrave Macmillan

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[1] And thanks to the Warren Court- The 8 year Supreme Court make up responsible for the most landmark pieces of legislation

[2] This is double speak because, like mental Illness and Gun Control, these conservative groups only seem to care about girls and children when they are using it to fight against something else.

[3] Meta textually, the misogyny of Joss Whedon can be measured by his use of the mystical pregnancy trope twice on the character of Cordiella Chase  in the Buffy  spin off show Angel twice after Chase’s actor Charisma  Carpenter rejected his sexual advances.

[4] Through the establishment and reinforcement of stoicism at a very young age, boys are emotionally stunted causing arrested development and a reliance on women for their emotion work. Women, particularly sexual partners, then become the primary source of men fulfillment of intimacy. Unfortunately, because sex and intimacy are inextricably linked for men there is a fundamental misunderstanding that takes place. Women being socialized to have an easier accessibility of diverse emotions like empathy and compassion; see them as separate from sexual attraction whereas men do not. Therefore, when women provide emotional support for men based on basic human decency, men misinterpret this as emotional intimacy and a sign of attraction (Walker 2020). This again maintains a reliance of men on women to meet all their emotional needs    

The Films of Julia Ducournau: Raw

 

            The first film in my analysis of the films of Julia Ducournau is the coming-of-age body horror film Raw. Ducournau’s full-length feature debut, draws on her interpersonal relationship with her parents and their expertise (gynecology and dermatology) along with her affinity for the works of David Cronenberg and Tom Hooper’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Centered in the throes of the zombie cultural zeitgeist of the mid-2010’s, Raw clearly has its influences (Claire Denis’s Trouble Everyday), and yet this film was a part of a moment that spawned its own cinematic parallels and allusions (Bones in All and Fresh). Still, this film has far more meat on the bone than a simple story of the first tenuous steps into adulthood, wrapped in a cocoon of body horror. In her freshman film, Ducournau challenges what we understand about burgeoning desire and the enduring bonds of feminist sisterhood. Ideas that are recurrent and subverted throughout her entire filmography.

 

PLOT

            A vegetarian medical prodigy, Justine (Garance Marillier), begins her veterinarian training alongside her older sister, Alex (Ella Rumpf). The bullying she experiences during the hazing rituals of her incoming class awakens an intersecting desire for experience, experimentation and cannibalism. As she comes to terms with this new reality, she must find a way to satisfy her cravings while maintaining her relationships with her sister, her roommate and her parents, without revealing the fledgling but ferocious hunger growing inside her.

 

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

            Raw is a cultural product with an interesting intersecting point of time and space. A cinematic debut that would herald a unique voice in the genre bending/blending of horror itself, opening into a more mainstream audience that, in their attempts to legitimize it, frame the rest as something of less quality. This can be crystalized by the discourse around the definition and application of the phrase “Elevated Horror” sometimes referred to as “arthouse” horror. Raw’s development, production and reception coincide with these conversations.

            The Pretentious Pedestal of ‘Elevated Horror’

             According to Rhys Hope (2023): The term “elevated horror” is usually applied when that film has:

the omission of a convention of what made the genre popular and familiar in its formative years. Whether that be a machete-wielding killer, hordes of undead monsters or possessive spirits, ‘elevated’ horrors tend to subvert expectations and scare through less obvious means.

Hope (2023) and other scholars point out that the use of the term “elevated” is both subjective and provides a not-so-subtle insult to what the horror genre is perceived to be; a shlocky, simple set of stereotypical scenarios that barely move people beyond running and screaming. This is a class status distinction that is hyperbolic and pretentious; implying that “non elevated” horror movies are less elegant and refined than those that are placed in the “art house” category.

The distinction between “elevated” and not isn’t occurring in other genres. When we discuss films like John Wick, Michael Clayton, Monkey Man, or Interstellar we don’t use the same derogatory qualifier (Hope 2023).  Instead, the commentary of those films is that they exemplify the genre they represent, even when they subvert expectations. When these films have inventive action, unconventional framing of shots or epic scope, the chatter around them is never that they have broken the bonds of genre, but that the filmmakers have brought the genre to a new location. This is accepted, whole cloth, without the use of an annoyingly unnecessary hierarchical structure.       

 A lot of this is tied to capitalism. It has been a long Hollywood idiom that horror movies always make money. This is primarily because of their traditionally lower budgets and comparatively higher box office returns. Therefore, a film in the horror genre is consistently profitable (Brutlag 2021). Similarly, because of its minimal investment and maximum return, new directors cut their teeth on the horror genre, with women directors finding the genre a reliable gateway into the industry that is frequently blocked by systemic misogyny.[1] Thus, because it is cheap to produce and the genre is used as a proving ground for inexperienced directors, there’s this assumption of lower quality that permeated horror up until the early 2010’s  

            Since the 2010’s we have seen a shift in the allegory of horror films, particularly in its villains. No longer are these villains a caricature and commentary on the internalized fear of the poor and the disabled. Instead, the “real” villains in these modern horror films are the various social ills of our society: racism, misogyny, militarization etc. that impose themselves on individuals (Brutlag 2021). This more refined social commentary caught the attention of independent film studios, which through their promotion, infused these stories with an air of intellectualism, that they then sold as high art.

One studio that built its brand on this intellectualizing of horror into class breaking “arthouse” cinema is A24. Through the 2010’s, A24, as they were both building a name and a cult following, chose to showcase horror films that were artistically complex and of premiere quality. Names like Ari Aster, Robbert Eggers, Jonathan Glazer, Yorgos Lanthimos and Alex Garland became part of the studio’s cadre of directors synonymous with the term: elevated horror (Bradley 2019). The focus on grief, pain and psychological distress seemed to both capture the attention of award granting regulatory bodies and synergistically align with their own elitism. Thus, making ‘elevated horror’ more about industry validation and profit. To sell something to a new market that previously wasn’t considered viable, the pretentious film snobs that glorify the filmmaking of 1970’s new Hollywood, studios like A24 arbitrarily created a high-class status of horror film that they then traded on, not recognizing their contribution to this manufactured schism of opulence within the genre. It should be no surprise that a common theme running parallel to the arrogance of arthouse horror from studios like A24, is their inability to deeply engage with the text. One has but to scratch the surface of every subgenre of horror film to find the psychological and sociologically meaningful layers of cultural and social commentary that emanate from classic and low budget horror films. Many Scholars have even devoted a lot of their time and energy into identifying the value of these films. Rather, it seems that “elevated horror” is an arbitrary label to generate profit and to convince audiences to conspicuously consume film media for status; even when those films may be shallower in theme, or at the very least, wear them too pronounced on their sleeve.         

 

Production

Raw first began to take shape in 2012, when writer/director Julia Ducournau first put pen to paper. Like many first-time independent films that came before it, the movie had a shoestring budget, was shot quickly and was primarily in one location: Liège, Belgium. Once the film production began in earnest, pre-production and principal photography took a scant 16 weeks. Yet, by the end of the final mixing of the film, and ready for its submission to the Cannes Film festival that started its worldwide run for distribution, 4 and ½ years had elapsed.

Because a lot of first-time films are cobbled together with the blood, sweat, and tears of the filmmakers; their will, being the only driving force to birth their art, many people attribute complex, or breathtaking shot compositions to talent rather than a happy accident born out of restriction(s). Creatives love to say that limitations are the mother of invention. Yet, there seems to be a gendered difference here that is not usually acknowledged. When male directors tell stories of their first films, their tone flares with frustration that their vision was not fully realized: “The fake shark wouldn’t work.” “The space battles weren’t dynamic enough.” etc. Even greats like Hayao Miyazaki, lamented that what he could produce did not live up to the images in his head. What these cisgendered male directors are running up against and bristling towards is a categorical rejection of their worth and value. Most of these men grew up on the privileged side of a white supremacist, capitalists, heterosexist patriarchy that continues to value them for simply existing. As they became more ingrained in the system, and a representation of it, opportunities and access to resources abound. Heck, Steven Spielberg got his first job by conning his way on to a film set. Thus, their frustration during their first features was more a function of being unfamiliar with significant barriers.[2] That lack of experiencing barriers does add to the egoistic god complex of many male directors, and unfortunately for those who do become successful, they end up squandering money and resources trying to perfect their flawed first films (Lucas keeps dipping into the Star Wars films believing he can improve them just by visual and special effects alone). Women directors, having consistently had their worth questioned, and their work overly scrutinized just to be considered for an opportunity, understand that their artistic vision is always tempered by reality, and that the image in their heads is altered by the practicality of living under the patriarchy. Thus, for women directors like Ducournau, they learn to flex within the confines of that system.

As Ducournau and her DP Ruben Impens were developing shots, Ducournau wanted to play with lighting, contrasting warm and cool colors in the same frame and playing off the contrast of the body. In the art direction of the film, Ducournau’s directive was to have an organized messiness to each scene, believing that everyone, and therefore every character, has their own level and style of messiness. Ducournau used tracking, slo-mo, and shot-reverse shots to fill out her world, making it seemed lived in and dynamic. One beautiful example of this command of the camera is a little-recognized, single take, 4 min tracking shot at the beginning of the film as Justine walks through the rave. According to Ducournau on the commentary for the film’s Blu-ray release, this shot took 10 hours: 4 hours for installation and setup and 6 hours to shoot 10 takes, 2 of which were perfect. Yet, it is so seamlessly interwoven into an engaging story that it is only noticeable when it is pointed out. That is economical, brilliant and powerful filmmaking.      

 

Fourth Wave Feminism

  According to Valenti (2014):

 Feminism can be defined as:

·         The belief in the social, political, and economic equality of all the sex and gender identities within the gendered spectrum that incorporates an understanding of standpoint differences based upon age, race, class, disability, sexual orientation, cultural and religious ideology.

·         An organization and socio-political movement around such a belief.

The fear of and the illicit bias towards (all) women have generated a strong and resilient backlash against such a movement, (that has its origins in white cis/het male panic)[3]

Regardless:

·         Feminism has made valuable and concrete changes in the lives of everyone on the gendered spectrum (at every level).

·         The current generation (many of whom don’t identify as feminist) stand on the shoulders of feminist activists and benefit from their victories and are periled by their losses.

·         Feminists have reshaped society’s understandings of gender roles which is instrumental into creating a generation of females with agency, power and access to resources.

·         If we don’t read and study women’s rights, we run the risk of forgetting their struggle and allow those hard-fought rights to be taken away, as we have seen in recent history.

 

Raw’s film production and premise places it well within the fourth wave feminist movement. The wave model of feminism points to various periods of social upheaval that generated an increase and sustained political action to improve the rights of women. The First wave concentrated on giving white women the right to vote and passing the 19^th amendment. The Second wave saw the availability of contraception (the pill) and the passage of landmark legislation: Title IX, The Equal Pay Act and the federal protections for abortion with the Roe v. Wade decision. The third wave was born out of the Clarance Thomas confirmation hearing and the treatment of Anita Hill who accused Thomas of sexual assault. Under the third wave, feminism became far more intersectional and saw an expanse of women in positions of power. It was instrumental in broadening the definition of sexual harassment to include the creation of a hostile work environment, passed the Violence Against Women Act and the Lilly Ledbetter Equal Pay Act.

The fourth wave of feminism began in 2012 through 2018.

According to Adler (2023)

Fourth Wave feminism is characterized by action-based awareness campaigns, protests, and movements like #MeToo advancing from the fringes of society into the headlines of our everyday news. The Fourth Wave has also been characterized as “queer, sex positive, trans-inclusive, body-positive, and digitally driven.” It seeks to further deconstruct gender norms. The problem these feminists confront is systemic white male supremacy. Fourth Wavers believe there is no feminism without an understanding of comprehensive justice that deconstructs systems of power and includes emphasis on racial justice as well as examinations of class, disability, and other issues [such as] a rise of new popular culture and citizen journalism… The internet has democratized cultural and artistic production, making indie music, films, zines, self-publishing, and other forms of art-making feasible and easy to distribute.    (p15-16)  

            In this context, Raw’s development and overall thematics[4]frames it as a feminist text, albeit a flawed one. The horror genre was one of the first to pierce the veil of the diminutive feminine stereotype and allowed audiences to imagine white women as a “credible perpetrator” (Clover 2015:17).   Ducournau uses the structure of a coming-of-age story to frame cannibalism as a rebellious subversion and challenge to patriarchy. This is akin to the fourth wave feminist act of the deconstructing power systems that Adler (2023) describes above. Growing up reading third wave feminist icons, Ducournau understands the reclamation of power, and creates a reality where “the girl” is the one to be feared. An interesting example of the inversion of the typical predator schema between men and women comes at the film’s end when it is revealed that Justine’s father allows himself to be continuously eaten alive for the love of Justine’s mother. Those final images have a lot of feminist thematic weight. Initially, one angle of analysis that is male centered, understands Justine’s father as a feminist ally, embracing the symbolic destruction of the patriarchy through the slow consumption of his body. Ironically, the inverse could also be misogynistically argued; that feminism represented by cannibalism, is the dangerous thing that is consuming men until they are nothing. While nuance is important, I tend to support the former rather than the latter. In the film’s commentary, Ducournau identifies the father as the hero and the one that is the most sympathetic, implying the ally role; one that does align with the fourth wave feminist principles.   

 

It should be noted that there are some disagreements and criticisms to the wave model in general.

 

According to Rory Dicker (2016):

 

                       "Approaching Feminism as a collective project aimed at eradicating sexism and domination seems the most practical way to continue feminist work. Quibbling about which wave we are in now or in whether I think of myself as a second, third, or fourth waver hardly seems a good use of my limited time; instead, I'd like to see sustained feminist activism performed by young, middle-aged and old women-separately or better yet, together."

 

 

To add to Dicker sentiments, there are a good number of feminist issues that all women across the "waves" have had to deal with, such as:

·         Violence against Women

·         Unrealistic and unobtainable Beauty Standards

·         Harassment (Street or otherwise)

·         Pay Gaps and Workplace Discrimination

·         Child Care and Family leave

·         Body and Sex Shaming

 

These are just some of the constant struggles all women continuously face when fighting for a more equal future. Similarly, there is strong criticism that regardless of its attempts to be intersectional and inclusive with Black, Queer, Disabled and poorer women, the feminist movement nevertheless promotes the perspective, time, and agenda of cis/het white women.

According to Miki Kendall (2020)

“Feminism is defined by the priorities of white women hinged on the availability of Cheap Labor in the Home from women of Color…[we are] skeptical of those who promise they care but do nothing to help those who are marginalized.

 

White Feminism is rarely interested in the fulfilling of Basic Needs (Kendall 2020):

·         Housing Commercial Zoning of residential areas, gentrification,

·         Education -Gerrymandering, School to Prison Pipeline, code switching 

·         Gun Violence – Tied to Intimate Partner Violence. Most Mass shooters are white men. Most victims are people of color. Suburban white flight, 

·         Hunger Food deserts in COC, living near a store but can’t afford to shop there. class status and meal prep, WIC myth of fraud, 

·         Living Wages raising of minimum wage for all work,

·         Medical Care (outside of Abortion access). Defunding and dismantling the for-profit system

 

White Feminism also:

• Ignores Black female victims of Rape and Sexual assault
• Ignores Missing Black Children
•  Reinforces the Racist Fear of Black boys and men

 

A lot of feminist arguments centered around white cis/het women are not about helping women achieve and satisfy these basic needs; because it implies these needs are already satisfied. Instead, such a focused movement is about increasing “privileges.”. Also, White Feminism pays more lip service (than actual service) to equality as white feminism fails to show up for women of color. But women of color are frequently called upon to choose gender over race and stand with white women against the patriarchy.

            Similarly, Raw is a very white film. Its feminism embodies a very white space and does not engage with identity outside of its whiteness. Most of the characters we follow are white and have a middle to upper class background. This is crystalized in the way that cannibalism in the film is presented as a feminist act of agency and self-discovery. Yet, it is a liberation that is achieved through a range of behaviors that illustrate an ambivalence to open hostility toward non-white and queer bodies (Galt and van Der Zaag 2022). It’s another example of the continued exploitation of nonwhite cis/het people by rich white feminists that Kendall (2020) describes.

 

 Our Flesh-Eating Fascination

 Since the release of George Romero’s classic Night of the Living Dead (1968) there has always been a cultural concentration on flesh-eating monsters. Typically, a representation of capitalist consumerism, Romero was one of the first zombie filmmakers to present an image of consumerism through the lens of the zombie. In 1978’s Dawn of the Dead, Romero provided audiences with scenes of hordes of zombies walking through the mall; a prophetic evocative rebuke of what would become Reaganite Capitalism and the mindless consumerism that followed.

The zombie would once again be invoked to explain capitalism two decades later as a particular totemic embodiment of ennui for the millennial generation. The events of the dot com bubble, 9/11, and the 2008 financial crisis, crystalize the consistent economic hardship of millennials (Gen Y). The financial instability of these three events properly illustrates the yearning for the social, economic and cultural world millennials were promised by their parents, only to be met with disappointment. Gen Y are the first white generation to have inconsistent generational social mobility. This jump started a gig economy where regardless of education, workers would engage in wage labor (often in the service industry). White millennials had to learn “the side hustle” (common in economically poorer communities) just to make ends meet. Thus, what was an economic and labor model for unstable careers (like acting) became the new normal for young white millennials, as the struggle to survive became that much harder.

It is not surprising that during this time of economic precarity, we started to see a resurgence of the zombie, and other “eaters of the flesh” in our popular culture. Yet, while “the Zombies are us” mantra were presented through the Gordon Gecko ‘greed is good’ lens of consumerism of the 1980’s, in the 2000’s, the zombies became an allegory for corporate greed. In this new zombie era, the source of zombification was the pharmaceutical industry or other forms of corporate negligence in their pursuit of profit. In almost every rendition, across genres, corporate greed was seen as the true monster. Games like Resident Evil, Dead Island, and The Last of Us, to films like 28Days Later, Shaun of the Dead, Zombieland, and Train to Busan all have an anti-capitalist, anti-corporation aesthetic. For 20 years, zombies were in the cultural zeitgeist again, and it was (un)ironically profitable.

Julia Ducournau’s Raw was released at the precipice of another lens shift for the flesh-eating metaphor of capitalism: cannibalism. According to Nancy Fraser (2023), as capitalism is unable to find a limit and continues to eat away at both resources and livelihoods in equal measure, it eventually turns on itself, becoming an ouroboros. Much like cancer, capitalism consumes and grows, even to the detriment of its own survival. It has a voracious appetite that is insatiable. It moves us from various “crisis points” of exploitation throughout history, just to extract more capital until there is nothing left; a cannibal capitalism (Fraser 2023).  Raw’s central struggle is the balance between monstrosity and humanity. Justine struggles but holds firm to her humanity whereas Alex falters. The constant between them is their hunger for human flesh. Cannibalism is the constant force in the film, as capitalism is in our society. The urge and need to consume is always present. Yet, Capitalism is also something that we are forced to participate in, as Justine is first forced to eat meat before “the hunger” captures her. In both cases, consumption is never ending and the drive for profit (or flesh) will destroy lives, relationships and families. The profit motive will cause us to eat each other…bones and all.

  

   

   SOCIAL ANALYSIS

            Raw’s sociological themes center on gender, the body, gendering that body, a pushback to eroticizing those bodies for (typical) male pleasure, and the formation of a fraught feminist sisterhood. These themes and ideals lay on the surface for even the casual viewer. Upon deeper analysis, what seems like circumvention, with the right critical arc, can be seen as reinforcement. Thus, while attempting to craft a story about women coming into their own and feeling their power in the choices that they have, Ducournau ends up, at times, reinforcing the opposite.

 

            Socialization of Bodies

Ducournau’s first full-length feature is a coming-of-age parfait. It is a story about a genius child going to university for veterinary medicine. While there, she has social and sexual awakenings that lead to a penchant to prey on people through a hereditary hormonal catalyst concluding in cannibalism. Sociologically, this is an allegory for the primary socialization into adulthood. Socialization being the process of social learning through various seemingly arbitrary rites of passage that are guided by various institutions, organizations and individuals. Ducournau is layering that simple premise through a horror framing with a sexually subtextual cherry on top. Meanwhile, meta-textually, a lot of that same framing can be applied to the journey Ducournau went on to make this film. Going through the production of her first film parallels Justine’s journey; both finding themselves and their voices, trying to know which impulses to trust and indulge, and which to suppress. So many other films have this premise, with many young cisgendered women filmmakers repeating this structure (Celine Sciamma has Water Lilies, Ana Lilly Amirpour has A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night  and Karyn Kusama has both Girlfight and Jennifer’s Body). Yet, what sets Ducournau apart is not just that she uses horror, but the way that she constructs horror through the lens of the female body, that makes it unique.

Julia Kristeva (1982) discusses the body being “The Horror Within”.  The inside body is thinly contained, through skin, from the outside body which no longer guarantees the integrity of either. This is typically read as a metaphorical analysis to talk about women existing in misogynistic spaces, and how they reject the phallic centered expression of sex by expelling, or in true oedipal fashion, coveting it (p53-54). Yet, when applied literally, Kristeva’s (1982) analysis takes a different dimension when applying it to the body-horror subgenre. The literal body is a scientific wonder, an evolutionary anomaly of awe; but there is a lot about the body that is simultaneously gross. The way that the naturalness and normality of body fluids are mined for horror, says a lot about our puritanical cultural roots and the amount of shame that accompanies living in our bodies.

One of the sexist differences inherent in gender socialization revolves around the gendered relationship we have with our bodies. Cisgendered men are allowed to glorify the grossness of their bodies because the way that we’ve successfully conditioned our civilization into normalizing it. All marketing, experiences and sanctions men experience reinforce the male body as being utilitarian, practical, and therefore allowed to be messy, dirty, able to be mucked up. Yet, through gender socialization, women see their bodies differently. As something that is ornamental, to be appreciated, and only used for a specific purpose (reproduction). Due to this diametric messaging, girls and women regularly develop shame around normal body functioning; causing them to develop rituals and consume products that make that messiness invisible to others, and in extreme cases, even to themselves. This is a trap. It is the iron maiden of our culture’s ‘beauty myth’ in which women are incarcerated. Yet, regardless of gender, we are all a part of this body carceral system, and we are our own jailers (Wolf 1991, Crawley, Foley and Shehan 2008). The body is our own prison and anyone who isn’t a cis/het able-bodied, white man has a rougher sentence.  In the case of trans and nonbinary people, many who are not being able to express or transition into the body that best fits them and their gender identity; are literally prisoners in their unwanted bodies. While many scholars have correctly reiterated that gender and the way that we experience our bodies is a social construct, the reality and strength of that construct is psychological fueled and reinforced by societal conformity (Orbach 2009). The walls may seem like glass and our chains made of paper; but in our minds, aided by a toxic dose of social ridicule, they become concrete and steel.     

Ducournau, growing up with parents that are both in the medical field, wasn’t repulsed by the body, or manufactured it into her own personal prison. She reveled in its every aspect. Even at a young age, Ducournau wanted to shatter the inherent double standard of body acceptance between cisgendered men and women. Thus, all Ducournau’s films are intentionally scummy. They exhilaratingly present the female body in a decreasing and precipitously erotic way: gore, vomit, urine and excrement are all present in her films with the intention of circumventing the female body as fundamentally ornamental and objectively sexual. Ironically, in Raw, these images are far less refined than they present later in her career. Still, the liberation of the female body from their own psychic prison, is a fundamental aspect of the feminist awakening the character of Justine goes through. First rejecting what her body needs, then accepting it, and finally, finding a way to exist in her new cannibalistic normality.     

 

Cannibalism as Desire

There is an underlying eroticism in cannibalism. Often used as a metaphor for becoming, the consumption of another person, in the context of pleasure and desire, can be enticingly romantic. There are lofty (albeit also pithy) platitudes about love that evoke this imagery. From the cultural rituals of merging lives that encompass various social, legal and economic entanglements that we normalize with a variety of forestry metaphors (‘laying down roots’ etc.); two people becoming one is an entrenched rite of passage in our socio-cultural system; to the point that when we first have sex in a relationship, the formal term we use to describe it is “consummation”.[5]

Because the female body has been eroticized and commodified in our misogynistic patriarchal culture for the purposes of cis/het pleasure; girls and women have been socially conditioned to be the sole source of emotional labor for men. Girls and women learn to consume the emotional turmoil of their partners and their family. To be the arbiters of their peace, serenity and stability as a part of the patriarchal bargain. Conversely, cis/het boys and men are pressured to experience this satisfaction of emotional labor as suffocating. They are conditioned to feel like their female partners are consuming them, taking bites of their individuality and autonomy away. This is regardless of the reality that women and men are both happier in opposition to these gendered norms. Women are happier and healthier when they are living alone and are single. Whereas men are in a similar state when they are partnered and have a family. Thus, the process of socialization, too, is feeding off all genders, by shaping them into their desired form for the purposes of social control.

According to Michel Foucault (1990), the deployment of sexuality in a society rests within the cultural relationship between power and sex. Censorship, uniformity and prohibition are all used to organize sex in a very specific way to maintain the proper order (in this case heterosexual misogyny). That order is then solidified by making these mechanisms of control invisible through the guise of biology and the fundamentally sexist perception of women’s innate weakness and male supremacy.

In Raw, Ducournau deploys sexuality through cannibalism; often depicting the desire for sex and for flesh as one indistinguishable urge. Justine’s first consummation of her cannibalism is through the consumption of a symbolic phallus (her sister’s finger), and then later, when she is having sex for the first time, she uncontrollably snaps her teeth at Adrian; only relenting when she sinks her teeth into her own flesh, punctuated by her orgasm…both compulsions satisfied in tandem.  Here Ducournau rewrites the power dynamics of a misogynistic patriarchy, turning it on its head by flipping the script of the predator/prey dynamic common in heterosexual sex[6]. Unfortunately, to achieve this liberation for Justine and her sister Alex, Ducournau straightwashes the one gay character in the film, then murders him. While this is done in an inverse “fridging” incident, allowing Justine to choose humanity over monstrosity (Alex making the opposite choice), it continues the tired trope of gay characters being used as props while simultaneously invalidating their existence through their untimely deaths on screen.

The Feminist Power of Sisterhood

            “Patriarchal thinking normalizes competition between mothers and daughters…women who suppress their unique gifts in the interest of being dutiful daughters wives and mothers are often filled with rage…girlhood power were it widespread, could easily undermine the conventional sexist social order” (bell hooks 2002:122-123).

            The patriarchy has always been fearful of the solidaric sisterhood of women. This is evidenced by the litany of historical examples of powerful institutions and individuals attempting to break that solidarity by race, sexuality, social class and disability fragmentation. Sometimes, the solidarity shines through the rampant heteronormative classist ableist racism, but not without effort and capitulation under the guise of compromise. This is often done to placate rich straight cisgendered white women, who not only are the major beneficiaries of affirmative action policies, are also those most likely to accept the patriarchal bargain and prop up the horrors of misogyny to glean power from it. Even setting aside this specific divisiveness, regardless of other dynamics, the conditioned state of general female competition hinders women’s abilities to celebrate each other. To achieve this, women must learn to celebrate themselves (hooks, 2002).[7]

            Ducournau illustrates the arc of female solidarity in the relationship between Justine and Alex. Their loving bond is established when Alex takes her younger sister under her wing when she arrives at veterinary school. Yet, as Alex’s resentment of Justine’s academic prowess grows, that animosity then turns violent after Justine rejects Alex’s solution to their collective hunger. Seeing Justine’s lust for Adrian, Alex murders him and attempts to frame Justine; trying to gaslight her into believing that she cannot control herself.  This ruse is almost immediately dispelled, resulting in a viscerally gory fight that only ends in solidarity through the sister’s mutual resistance to the school’s authority. While Ducournau ends the film with the solidarity of Justine and Alex intact, it unfortunately also reinforces the tired stereotype of women, in this case sisters, fighting over the attention of a man. This is not the kind of catalyst and celebration that hooks (2002) envisioned. Instead, it’s another tired trope of female confrontation through the lens of the patriarchy; women’s actions, once again, being motivated by men.

  

   

CONCLUSION

            Raw is a powerful debut from an engrossing and interesting filmmaker. Ducournau marries body horror with a variety of other genres that is hard to describe with normal conventions. Her freshman film is a taut representation of the fourth wave feminist movement while continuing our fascination with flesh eating stories. The film’s amalgamation of themes from feminism and sisterhood to sexuality makes it ripe for cultural criticism and a unique cinematic representation of burgeoning womanhood. While this film does momentarily stumble into tired sexist and heteronormative tropes that weigh down the film; it is a collection of well mixed ingredients, that if cooked longer, may turn into something spectacular.[8]  

 

 

 

REFERENCES

Adler, Jo-Anne 2023. “ Five Waves of Feminism” in Canadian UU Women’s Association Retrieved on 10/5/2025 Retrieved at https://cuuwa.ca/wp-content/uploads/2023/02/CUUWA-Five-Waves-of-Feminism-3.pdf

Bradley, Laura 2019. “This was the decade that horror got “elevated”. In Vanity Fair Retrieved on 10/4/2025 Retrieved at https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2019/12/rise-of-elevated-horror-decade-2010s

Brutlag, Brian 2021. “Not Just a Villain: Disability and Capitalism Among Horror Antagonists in Film” in The Sociologist’s Dojo Retrieved on 10/4/2025 Retrieved at https://thesociologistsdojo.blogspot.com/2021/10/not-just-villain-disability-and.html

Clover, Carol J. 2015.  Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film Princton. Princton University Press

Crawley, Sara L. Lara J. Foley and Constance L. Shehan 2008. Gendering Bodies New York: Rowman and Littlefield

Dicker, Rory C. 2016. A History of US Feminisms New York: Seal Press

Foucault, Michel 1990. The History of Sexuality Vol1: An Introduction New York: Vantage Books

Galt, Rosalind and Anette-Carina van der Zaag 2022. “‘C’est grave’: Raw, cannibalism and the racializing logic of white feminism.” In The Journal of Visual Culture 21:2  Retrieved on 10/5/2025 Retrieved at https://doi.org/10.1177/14704129221112972

hooks, bell 2002. Communion: The Female Search For Love  New York: Harper Collins

Hope Rhys 2023. “The Myth of ‘Elevated Horror’” in Film-East.com  Retrieved on 10/4/2025 retrieved at https://www.film-east.com/s/stories/the-myth-of-elevated-horror

Kendall, Mikki 2020. Hood Feminism: Notes From a Movement that Women Forgot New Yorkr: Viking

Kristeva, Julia 1982. Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection New York: Columbia University Press

Orbach, Susie 2009. Bodies New York: Picador Publishing

Ramey Berry, Diana 2020. A Black Woman’s History of the United States  Boston: Beacon Press

Valenti, Jessica 2014. Full Frontal Feminism: A Young Woman’s Guide to Why Feminism Matters New York Seal Press

Wolf, Naomi 1991. The Beauty Myth: How Images of Beauty Are Used Against Women New York: William and Morrow Company

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[1] There is also the issue that many women directors find it hard to escape the horror genre. This is unlike men, who once they “prove themselves” with the success of a particular film, are given free reign to shift, mix and create whole new genres that fit their cinematic sensibilities. Then, without fail, they are called auteurs and visionaries. Women must slowly creep from the perceived basement of horror to prove their worth a thousand times over; with fewer chances when they fail than their male counterparts. Horror directors that are women often are seen as only horror directors; whereas cisgendered male directors one ones that do horror.     

[2] It is important to note that just because someone does not experience certain barriers within a system does not mean to imply that they are free from struggle and adversity. What that means is that their identity and demographics are not an additional barrier to the struggles they might be facing.

[3] Cisgendered and Heterosexual

[4] See the social analysis section

[5] This is also why we find vampires and vampirism sexy.

[6] A better depiction of this inversion of the sexual predator prey dynamic is in the 2007 body horror film Teeth  about a young girl who discovers that through a sexual awakening she realizes that she has vagina dentata. The film does a better job of depicting agency and consent while reinforcing the male terror of such a reversal.

[7] Historically, Black women have always been at the forefront of this movement, ready to come out champion and fight for everyone else’s right even when they do not directly benefit, because they understand that solidarity validates everyone. We all owe a debt to Black women for what they have done and continue to do.

[8] As with her acclaimed second film Titane