Ojsadmin, 5 Persistence
Ojsadmin, 5 Persistence
Contemporary Cinema
However, the historical use of this term has never been banal,
even less from a feminist perspective. “For centuries the
understanding of hysteria was a prisoner to its etymological origin in
the Greek word for uterus” (Bernheimer 2). In effect, ancient
medicine considered the uterus to be a mobile and independent
organism, whose movement inside the female body could provoke
the disease of hysteria. The relationship between this term and the
female womb immediately excluded men from the equation. Even
more significant is the fact that hysteria was often linked to sexuality.
If abnormal sexual activity was considered to be the cause of the
uterus displacement, “the recommended treatment . . . is, quite
simply, marriage and pregnancy. Thus was established a diagnosis of
female sexual disturbance, and a cure by submission to the yoke of
patriarchy” (Bernheimer 3).
The cause-effect connection between this “female” disorder
and the submission of women to patriarchy makes the fact that
Almodóvar chooses this trait as the foundation to construct femininity
a worthy object of study. The traditional stereotype of the Spanish
woman as passionate and governed by her instincts and emotions is
all the more apparent when the female protagonist is in love. For
instance, in La flor de mi secreto (The Flower of my Secret), Leo -the
protagonist- is totally lost in her solitude. She lives for an absent
husband that ends up leaving her for another woman, namely her
best friend. Her extreme emotions, bordering on mental illness, cause
her to become destructive and chaotic, and eventually lead her to
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attempt suicide.
The stereotype of the Spanish woman as passionate and
neurotic when it comes to love relationships can be found in the
works of other directors as well, who are also internationally
acclaimed as independent and transgressive directors in spite of
perpetuating the same archaic representation. We cannot ignore for
example the film Vicky Cristina Barcelona, by US director Woody
Allen, which presents María Elena (Penélope Cruz) as a neurotic
avant-garde artist, involved in a love-hate relationship with her ex-
husband (Javier Bardem) which leads her to several attempts to kill
him and herself. However, their deep love keeps on bringing them
together and allows them to hold on to a relationship that does not
work and never will. The beauty and sex-appeal of Penélope Cruz is
mixed with her psychological instability, creating extremely comical
situations. It is precisely the contrast between María Elena’s
character and the two American women that highlights this
stereotype of the Spanish woman being passionate verging on the
most hysterical and schizophrenic stage.
In Almodóvar’s movies, the woman can fit into a third
stereotype, closer than ever to the Virgin Mary, that which is known
in Spanish as la madrecoraje (Mother Courage): Mother Courage
represents the ideal mother, who is ready to do anything for her
children, and who overcomes the most difficult situations in order to
better serve her family. A first reading of this stereotype of woman
might seem positive, and it is one of the reasons why Almodóvar,
who always emphasizes the madrecoraje in his films, has been
considered a women’s director. This representation of the mother
clashes with the image of the father, who is normally absent and
bears much of the responsibility for the mother’s mental instability.
However, the apparent moral superiority of the Almodovar’s
archetypal mothers is undermined for two reasons. First, the viewer
feels that those mothers owe that female strength to the fathers that
have left them: they are present only because the father is absent.
Secondly, the mistakes that the fathers commit are never punished or
condemned. Not only Almodóvar’s women forgive the absent fathers,
but so does the recipient due to the internal coherence of the film.
Believing that those madrescoraje are independent because they are
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able to fight for themselves against their fate is to ignore the
determining effect that men have had on their lives.
Almodóvar creates a female identity mainly based upon male
perception. For this reason, even in his attempt to overcome archaic
female identity, Almodóvar still promotes the traditional binary
opposition between man and woman: woman’s identity can only be
understood in function of that of the male, and women are only
defined vis-à-vis the opposite sex. Most of the critics state that
Almodóvar deconstructs the female identity by redefining gender,
and often mention the film Todo sobre mi madre (All about my
Mother) to argue their point. However, All About My Mother tells
precisely the story of a woman who, after her son’s death, feels the
need to find the whereabouts of his transsexual father, Lola. When
the mother realizes that her friend Rosa (Penélope Cruz) is pregnant
and infected with aids by the same man, she decides to take care of
the baby. The mother ends up forgiving Lola and stands up for him in
an argument with Rosa’s mother. As we can see, women’s actions
and decisions are conditioned and determined by the presence and
the actions of a male, and their independence is not the result of free
will, but rather a by-product of a situation that has been created by a
masculine element.
The main positive aspect about Almodóvar’s films that the
critics praise, even from the feminist field, is his apparent
transgression of all established social structures: “It is his flamboyant
visual style and his treatment of gender and sexuality which have
stamped an overarching identity on his films” (Jordan and Morgan-
Tamosunas 115). However, one should not mistake the concepts of
gender and sexuality. When interpreting Almodóvar´s work, there is
an intention to subvert both categories, but this seems to be
achieved only when it comes to sexuality (and not even at all times).
The fact that all female characters’ lives and identities revolve, with
no exception, around men’s leads us to the conclusion that he is not
as successful when subverting gender. Undoubtedly, his works do not
reconstruct a compulsory heterosexual system; all types of sexual
orientations are represented and celebrated. Sexual taboos that had
been historically marginalized in Spain by National Catholicism have
also become positive icons honored in his films. Nevertheless, the
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eternal binary oppositions that confront and prioritize masculinity
over femininity keep finding their way to organize reality in
Almodóvar’s movies. While he creates morally superior female
characters, they are still prisoners of the gender laws that build their
identities in relation to men.
Even if we consider that Almodóvar is generally more
successful when transgressing sexuality than gender, the spectator
still perceives the persistence of some stereotypes in the construction
of homosexual women characters. As stated by Mark Allison,
Almodóvar does not feel the need to compensate decades of
repression by incorporating a positive or politically correct portrayal
of his homosexual characters (101). Even though Pepi, Luci, Bom
already presents female homosexuality in the roles of two of the
main characters, Kika is the perfect example to prove our thesis.
Rossy de Palma plays the role of Juana, an extremely stereotyped
lesbian figure. She is characterized by traits conventionally linked to
masculinity: aggressiveness, strength, and other physical traits such
as a moustache. The masculinization of this character becomes clear
when Kika decides to make her up in a more feminine way, and she
feels strange dressed up in women’s clothes. We have found this
category of women of extreme interest, as Almodovar’s treatment of
sexuality has always been considered transgressive and subversive
for the established order. However, even bearing this fact in mind,
his portrayal of homosexual women draws from the archetypical
images that compose western social imaginary. Nevertheless, and as
affirmed also by Allison, this is not the case when creating
homosexual male characters: “Unlike Juana’s moustached lesbian,
Almodovar’s early gay men are not stereotyped” (104).
The last stereotype we find in Almodóvar’s movies is that of
the female prostitute. Prostitution, a recurrent feature in Almodóvar’s
movies, is presented as a chosen profession, as an activity that the
female characters enjoy doing, as shown by the character of Agrado,
a transsexual prostitute in Todo sobre mi madre (All about my
mother). In one of her scenes, she even says “they call me La
Agrado… because I’ve always tried to make people’s lives agreeable.”
Here she is making a pun with her name “Agrado” (I please), and the
fact that she likes pleasing. The sexual exploitation of these women
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is portrayed in a trivialized way, which lessens the impact of female
objectification, but reinforces the stereotype all the same.
This representation of women as objects is crucial in the
discourse of Hable con ella (Talk to Her), where the female character
is in a coma, which obviously prevents her from acting as a subject.
The very title of the movie is quite ironical, taking into account the
medical condition of both female characters. In Spanish, the title of
the movie (“speak with her”) suggests a two way conversation.
However, what actually takes place in the film is not a conversation
with the woman in a vegetative state, but a male monologue. The
trivialization of female objectification crosses the limits when a rape
scene is described as a romantic act between the male nurse and the
comatose female patient. This treatment of sexual violence against
women is not only romantically described in Hable con ella, but it is
also presented as something beneficial for the raped woman, since
she happens to wake up from a four-year long coma after the
aggression.
There are rape scenes in almost every Almodóvar’s film, and
this violence is always trivialized to the extent that women do not
seem to suffer from it and sometimes even enjoy it; the
aforementioned film, Kika, was indeed much criticized after its
international release due to its humorous treatment of a hardcore
rape scene. This specific use of the rape motif in Almodovar’s cinema
remains problematic; it may point to certain liberation of sexuality by
transcending some of its most obvious taboos, however it also
purports the very primal notion of violence against women, which
remains a cultural reality in today’s Spanish society.
Sexual violence is the main form of physical violence against
women, and it is still extremely rooted in our society. Fiction, as a
space dominated by spectacle, keeps representing these negative
aspects of our society, but needs to find mitigation strategies that
somehow justify and even trivialize the situations presented. In
“Representación cinematográfica de la violencia de género: femenino
y masculino en el cine comercial español” Asunción Bernárdez
examines a series of strategies often implemented in cinema in order
to soften the images of sexual violence against women. First of all, a
very common mitigation mechanism is to present female sexual
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desire as nymphomania. Since those female characters are
represented as hypersexual, it is more difficult for the spectator to
condemn the scene of violence. Sometimes even the female
characters do not understand those sexual aggressions against them
as such, which ends up neutralizing any type of criticism. Almodóvar,
in his attempt to transgress traditional female roles, frequently
provides women with such a strong sexual desire that places they are
on the edge of nymphomania. In Laberinto de pasiones (Labyrinth of
Passions), all sexual boundaries are crossed when the protagonist,
the rock singer Sexi, actually experiences this disorder. Her sexual
addiction is softened and trivialized the same way other practices,
such as prostitution, are positivized in Almodóvar’s movies.
“Indeed, those who choose prostitution as a career are
usually likeable characters in Almodóvar” (Allison 97). Agrado, from
Todo sobre mi madre (All about my Mother), is the perfect example
of this positivization process. Through Agrado, we can also analyze
another mitigation strategy found in Almodóvar: the representation of
sexual aggressions against women as mere anecdotes. After being
beaten up by a male client, this character assumes the act to be part
of her job and considers it a normal event in her life as a prostitute.
Finally, the very representation of the male aggressor might
also become a useful mitigation strategy. They are very often
presented as “abnormal” people, suffering from a pathology that
justifies their actions. This is the case of Benigno, in Hable con ella
(Talk to Her), whose evident obsession with his female patient leads
him to believe that a real love relationship exists between them. Also
Paul Bazzo, in Kika, is a prison escapee and a rapist suffering from
hypersexuality. Therefore, these characters are not morally
condemned, neither by the female victim nor by the spectator.
According to DeFleur and Dennis, cinema has an extremely
active role in the transmission and understanding of the Other, and
directors can determine up to a certain extent how society views its
own minorities. Stereotypes are comfortable and easy ways for the
majority to refer to and understand minorities. They are often
unrealistic, and tend to promote unreliable generalizations that give
rise to negative feelings by associating negative characteristics with
certain groups. For this reason, Kanahara states that “prejudice often
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finds its way into collective consciousness through stereotypes”
(quoted in Brewer 8).
Taking this into account, the perpetuation of female
stereotypes by such an acclaimed director as Almodóvar turns out to
be very dangerous especially when the culture (and the gender)
portrayed remains unfamiliar to the viewer. While acknowledging the
effort that directors like Almodóvar consciously make in order to
transgress the traditional representation of female identity, it must be
pointed out that they themselves are not entirely free from the
preconceived notions that pervade collective consciousness.
Feminist film scholars have discussed the misogyny of
mainstream media, and particularly the film industry, which often
portrays women as passive and reified. However, they do note that
the female roles in film today have expanded beyond their original
roles from several decades ago. Almodóvar is doubtlessly one of
those directors who have consciously tried to deconstruct static
women with no sexual desire of their own and exclusively devoted to
their men. The problem might be found in the tools that are used to
pursue such deconstruction.
“The mismatch between Almodóvar’s apparent intention and
critical perceptions of his films seems to be rooted in the 'liberal'
approach underpinning his treatment of all social structures” (Jordan
and Morgan-Tamosunas 116). His deconstruction process might be
successful within the framework of his fictional world. However, the
audience is always going to be influenced by social constraints and
rules that will shape their understanding of these new female
identities. The viewers “inhabit a world in which the repression of
women is too deeply entrenched within social and psychological
consciousness for such representations to be entirely free from
misogynistic interpretation” (116). Despite Almodóvar’s efforts, it is
still possible to notice a recurrent stereotyped and sometimes
objectified vision of Spanish women in his films, which remains
ideologically questionable, and which tends to indicate that, for all
our new found feminine consciousness and affirmation, we are still
prisoners of the archaic notions that have constructed a passive and
subservient female identity.
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Bibliography
Films Cited