FEMALE GAZE

OK, I might be a little late to the party, but I just finished watching “Little Fires Everywhere” (Liz Tigelaar, 2020). Although far from perfect, it’s a show I thoroughly enjoyed. I particularly loved how the show depicted the complicated power dynamic between women of different races and social backgrounds. I also appreciate this show because it made me think about how new and special this type of content is. I’m talking about content created by women for women. Shows and films with female protagonists where the male characters are relegated to a secondary role. This got me thinking on the female gaze and why it’s relevant.

So where do I start? Throughout the history of film, stories have been told by men for men. This means that protagonists were mostly male. Think about some of the most highly regarded films off the top of your head: “Citizen Kane” (Orson Welles, 1941), “The Godfather” (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972) or “Taxi Driver” (Martin Scorsese, 1976), for example. What’s the role of women in those films? She’s either the wife, the lover, the victim… not much else. Now bear with me, this doesn’t mean I consider these films bad for not having female protagonists. I love these films. The issue is that we women have not had female protagonists to look up to, to study or to empathize with. Here’s a question you can ask yourself: is there a female equivalent to these three films?

Laura Mulvey is an American film theorist who first introduced the concept of the male gaze. In feminist theory, the male gaze refers to the act of depicting women in art (be it film, paintings, photography or literature) from a heterosexual male perspective. This means women are represented as sexual objects for pleasure of the heterosexual male viewer. In film, the male gaze has three perspectives:

1. The man behind the camera.
2. The male characters within the film.
3. The spectator watching the film.

Why is the male gaze problematic? It’s a truth universally acknowledged (hi, Jane!) that the film industry is very much male led. Not only are most of the directors, writers and producers male, most of the members voting in award shows are… you guessed it, (white) men. Male gaze in film is, therefore, abundant. For years, men have decided what we’re going to watch and how we’re going to watch it. Remember the lingering shot of Megan Fox’s body in “Transformers” (Michael Bay, 2007)? How about any woman in any James Bond movie? Remember Princess Leia in her bikini? The list goes on. Here’s a great video compilation to illustrate the male gaze.

Ask yourself: How often are men depicted in the same way? Mind you, the male gaze is not only problematic because of its over-sexualization of women. Therefore, the answer to male gaze is not to create a bunch of “Magic Mike”-like films and throw them at women to shut them up. Male gaze is problematic because it also means that, more often than not, female characters are written by men purely for men’s satisfaction. This sends a message to women from a very young age: “this is your function in the world”, “look good so that men look at you this way”, “be a good wife, support your husband”, “don’t be a slut”. The list goes on.

Consequently, female characters are often less complex than their male counterparts, which means that if art is meant for us to connect to it and help us understand ourselves better, women have been lacking in this department. Have you ever heard about the Bechdel test (aka the Bechdel Wallace test)? It’s a measure of representation of women in fiction and it asks three simple questions. Does the film include at least two women in it? Do they talk to each other? About something other than a man? A lot of female oriented content doesn’t even meet this criteria. What is the premise of most romantic comedies or so called “chick-flicks”? Woman needs to fall in love with the guy. Women in these films are either the dumb pretty girl or the ugly girl who gets a makeover and gets the guy. How many critically acclaimed female-led dramas can you think about? Exactly.

This has recently changed, however. We now have more female film creators than ever. Not only do we have more female protagonists, we also have more women behind the camera. Although we are far from equal to men, this shift has of course led to the concept of the female gaze. This idea is of course quite new, but it studies art using the same parameters the male perspective did but switching it to female. The female gaze is born thanks to this new content created by women for women. Finally, we see real women with real problems, not women with the problems men think we have. To learn more about this, here’s a wonderful talk by Joey Soloway.

Where has this shift come from, you may ask? I personally believe the success of “Girls” (Lena Dunham, 2012) had tiny part to do with it. “Girls” opened the door to a lot of female created content. It got people talking. Many of us connected with many aspects of these highly imperfect sometimes annoying young women. I remember watching that awful sex scene the second episode of “Girls” opens with. Adam and Hannah are having sex and Adam is clearly doing whatever it is he’s watched in porn. Hannah just takes it and follows along not knowing what else to do. It’s awkward, humiliating, and honestly hard to watch. Many people were scandalized by that scene. So if watching this fictionalized sex scene makes us feel this way, why don’t we ask the hard questions? Like, why would Hannah feel the need to put up with this? Maybe it’s she’s “learned” this is what sex is supposed to be like. Why? Well, many teenagers seem to be learning about sex through porn. Why not do something about this for example?

Clearly, though, “Girls” isn’t the only cause for this rise in female creators. Other factors must be taken into account, all of which have conveniently coincided during my young adult years and for which I am grateful. First off, the “Me Too” movement got actresses and female filmmakers talking. Although there is still a lot of work to be done, I do believe this movement has helped create a lot of female led content and the rise of female talent. Secondly, something that is less talked about is the power of streaming. Subscription streaming services have changed the way audiences are measured. Also, having these services not be financed by advertising has led to more creative freedom. There’s recently been some really experimental storytelling with shows like “The OA” (Zal Batmanglij, Brit Marling 2016-2019) or “Tuca & Bertie” (Lisa Hanawalt, 2019) for example. HBO is not longer the only one who is not “TV”.

I’m happy to be in this… I won’t say “Golden Age” but I will say that it’s the closest we’ve ever been to a “Golden Age” in female storytelling. I was thinking back to the the shows I had growing up that were led by women. Very few. “Gilmore Girls” (Amy Sherman-Palladino, 2000-2007) and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” (Joss Whedon, 1997-2003). That’s it. Great shows, both showing strong and complex women, sure. But those were my two “female” shows. There were more, of course: “Xena, Warrior Princess” (Sam Raimi, John Schulian and R.J. Stewart; 1995-2001) and “Charmed” (Constance M. Burge, 1998-2006), which I also occasionally watched. I’m sure that you can think of a couple more, but you get the gist. Even if you can think of 10 shows, just think that other than those ten shows, the rest of the programming was led by men. Kind of sad, isn’t it?

Flash-forward to 2019. Phoebe Waller-Bridge won multiple awards with “Fleabag” (2016-2019), the greatly imperfect yet relatable, guinea pig-themed-cafe-owner that makes us laugh out loud one minute and cry the next. Hannah Gadsby talks to us about the male gaze in art in her “Douglas” monologue. Greta Gerwig writes and directs the most beautiful mother-daughter relationship in “Lady Bird” (2017). Not only that, she adapts “Little Women” (2019) and adds an incredible little sequence where she illustrates why having men deciding what women consume is problematic. “Big Little Lies” (2017-2019) shows the power of women coming together to save themselves. “Booksmart” (Olivia Wilde, 2019) portrays the most beautiful and pure highschool female friendship ever told. Issa Rae helps me realize the awkwardness I’m feeling during these young adult years is normal with her show “Insecure” (2016-?). Finally, we come full circle with “Little Fires Everywhere” which is a complicated study of the relationships between women of different social status, but also delves into what these dynamics bring into the relationships between these women and daughters.

But wait, there’s more. Growing up, except for “Mulan” (Tony Bancroft & Barry Cook, 1998), all Disney gave me were Disney Princesses waiting for their prince to save them. Now, little girls have Moana (Ron Clements, John Musker, Don Hall, Chris Williams, 2016), Elsa and Ana from “Frozen” (Chris Buck & Jennifer Lee, 2013) and Merida from “Brave” (Mark Andrews, Brenda Chapman, 2012). This makes me so happy. I love that little girls have strong female protagonists to look up to. And it also makes me happy that little boys also enjoy these films. Exposing boys and men to real strong and complicated women will help them understand us better. I truly believe that more female created content will make the world a better place.

Reading about the female gaze and appreciating female created content has also opened my eyes to much more. As Joey Soloway talks about in the video, there’s a lot of intersection between the female gaze and representation. I mean, look. Here I am complaining about the lack of female protagonists and yet, only one of the shows I mentioned has a black protagonist. Sadly, it wasn’t until I started thinking about the the lack of female content that I started noticing how little content I was consuming with protagonists that don’t look like me or think like me. Hannah Gadsby, for example, opened my eyes to ableism through “Nanette” (2018) and “Douglas” (2020). Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo, on the other hand, are taking the world now with their show “Veneno” about a transgender icon in Spain which is currently number one in my “to watch list”.

All this to say, I guess, that white heterosexual men shouldn’t be the only ones telling stories. We need different voices in art. Films help us understand each other. They bring us together. We should all make an effort to watch different stories. I’m working on finding new and different content to educate myself. We should all, as spectators, do the same. We’re kind of starting to, I think. Otherwise the worldwide success of a film such as “Parasite” (Bong Joon Ho, 2019) would not have been possible. The Academy also took another step forward this year by announcing new representation and inclusion standards for Oscars eligibility. But there’s still work to do. Not only for creators, but also for us spectators.