The readings we got for the weekend were very interesting to me because they talked in depth about female actresses in the media. In “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema” by Laura Mulvey, one of the main points she made was that women are to be “looked at” while men doing the “looking”. Although she makes the assumption that the audience of these movies consist of predominantly heterosexual males, I thought back to one of my previous film classes where we listened to the song “Bitch Bad” by Lupe Fiasco. Mulvey states that many males viewers of the movie identify with the main hero of the film and so view the co-starring actress through the hero’s eyes. In many cases this behavior translates into reality, yet does a similar behavior exist in women? Like the song states, there are many females who may watch the same films and identify with the female characters. Most times both genders have been socialized to associate certain parts of the female body with sexual activity and nothing more. They are also being told what images are “beautiful” and what are distasteful.

Johnston goes into the topic of objectification of women and socializations as well. Johnston credits the term “iconography” as being partly responsible for the stereotypes placed on women in the media. In the past and in present day as well, women are filmed in different ways than male actors in a movie. I find myself getting bored with females in action movies because I know that they simply exist in the movie to as a causality, and  for the inevitable sex scene. For almost all other scenes in the movie, she is not important. And in both of these scenes as well, the main hero is involved and is also the one in charge.

Johnston believes that all decisions in film have been made intentionally. A blonde actor is chosen, and the light hits her hair every time she is present in the movie. She is naive and innocent, or a damsel that must be protected. There are many examples of decisions filmmakers have made in order to portray women in a certain light. As both authors have pointed out, women in a movie are almost always connected to a male figure. In class Professor Sikand posed the question “Is it possible to make a feminist film?” I think it will be very difficult to do so because you would have to be very aware of the decisions you are making in terms of visual and narrative. And after all of that work, would anyone watch it? A phrase I’ve heard a lot is “Sex sells.” and this is very true in the media world today. But is it really that impossible to make a very interesting action movie without a sex scene?

Question

One of the points that I was a little confused by was Mulvey’s use of terms such as “castration” and “phallus”. I know the definitions of these terms however, she refers to the woman with some of these terms. In class Professor spoke about the lack of a penis being connected to the reason why men are more dominant than women. I found the following line thought provoking:

“…it is her lack that produces the phallus as a symbolic presence, it is her desire to make good the lack that the phallus signifies.” (1st pg)

Do you agree with this quote? Is it possible to make a feminist film without addressing this?

Claire Johnston writes, “…it is not enough to discuss the oppression of women within the text of the film; the language of the cinema/ the depiction of reality must also be interrogated…” By this Johnston says that it is not enough to have a strong female character in the film the other characters must treat her appropriately.  It is common practice in films with strong female leads for the other characters to try justifying why the lead is female.  In a film with a male lead there is no need to mention why he is the main player, but with a female lead, many films strive to point out how much of an anomaly it is.  By pointing out that a female lead is strange it conveys to the audience the idea that a strong female lead should not be expected.  This says that the average woman does not have it in her to command as much power as the average male lead does, and that it is only occasionally that a woman can do so.  If a woman is to be the lead in a film, then the dialogue of the film should treat the woman as it would for a man.  If the dialogue and the actions of the film do not match, then it creates confusion in the viewer who may be unsure of the film’s actual position on the female lead.

The first part of this blog post will be a brief summary of Women’s Cinema as Counter-Cinema for today’s class. In case you missed some of the important ideas of the article here they are.

Most importantly, you should understand the following ideas: Myths, Iconography, signs, stereotypes, counter cinema, and the difference between idealism and realism and how that is important to the construction of the film.

The most important quote from the reading is, “There is no such thing as unmanipulated writing.” (page 28)  I felt that this is the core to the argument  in Johnston’s article. I thought that the discussion about myths and the malleability of their signs provided a good backbone to this statement. To be sure you understand what a myth is, I would look on page 22-23 to better understand this concept.

In short, myths and the sign system that they are based on are highly malleable. Although you might think that one sign denotes something, it can easily be manipulated to refer to something else. Thus, creating a whole new denotation and altering the meaning of something that you originally found to be true. (Also worth noting, is that this concept can be applied to the conversation that we have about subversive messages)

Next point to be familiar with is, Idealism vs. Realism. Bottom line is, movies do not represent reality. Movies represent ideas. Johnston wants us to reject the sociological approach to film critique and understand that a film does not represent a culture, but is rather formed by a current cultural idea which is entirely at the scrutiny of the filmmaker at the time of production.

To connect this with the Blonde Venus, I wanted to focus more in depth on a specific passage. One quote that specifically stood out to me is (on page 30) “Any revolutionary strategy must challenge the depiction of reality; it is not enough to discuss the oppression of women with the text of the film; the language of the cinema/the depiction of reality must also be interrogated.” My original question is, how do we see this in Blonde Venus, and consequently, how do we respond to this? However, I think that this statement is particularly interesting because it started to make us think about feminist films and if they are even possible to make. How do we respond to the context of which a film is made when we aren’t in the era that this film is made.

I thought that the discussion that we had in class was really interesting. One point that was brought up was the fact this film was made in 1932. We can all agree that a lot has changed since this point in film history. To better understand the cultural context of this film we need to understand the process in which the film was made. We noted that at this time the hayes code, the male director, and the sexist ideologies were all contributors to that culture at that point in time.  I think that without those factors we can’t necessarily decide what this film is trying to say about women. I won’t elaborate on what I think this film is trying to say, but I can comment on the fact that I don’t think that it’s as easy as I thought to determine the meaning of this film after reading Johnston’s article.

I think just the fact that we are unsure about what this film is proves Johnston’s original argument. That is, films are based on ideas not reality. More specifically, films are based on the ideas of the filmmaker who is constructing that film.  For that reason, can we ever really be sure what the director was intending for us, since we don’t necessarily know what he had in mind. However, Johnston gives us a lesson in iconography in order to apply this to the films we watch. That brings me to this next quote, (on page 29) “Clearly, if we accept that cinema involves the production of signs, the idea of non-intervention is pure mystification. The sign is always a product.” I think that if we are to use this idea of iconography in the films we watch then we can better understand the way in which these films were intended to be seen.

So, before I end, in regards to the original question that I address in the title, I would like to hear more comments on this.  Can we have a feminist film? Like I mentioned in class, I do think it is possible, given that what Johnston said about films being about ideologies as opposed to reality. So if feminism is an ideology then it should be possible for a film to be of a feminist nature. The problem remains that regardless of any director’s intention the problem remains with the audience. The audience is, in most situations, oblivious to certain cultural issues and for that reason the meaning of the film could be lost or misinterpreted. So how do we overcome this, and that being said, is that even possible?

During the film, I could not help but to watch how the costuming replicated the mood of Helen. In the beginning when she is nude, it represents the idea of Helen as a fairy. Then she is in very motherly outfit: an apron and dress, as she attends to her child and duties around the home. But once she must become the seductress, her outfits reflect this too. A hat carefully covering one eye to show that she is hiding a part of herself, the large coat to display her previous successes. All of these play into the role she is playing. When she brings her costume home, it is the sign that she has shifted away from mothering and into supporting her family as a man would. The glamor of the costume brings about a feelings that the world she is in is too small for her to be a part of. When Helen eventually turns her son over to her father, she is again in motherly clothing. These clothes are tattered, covered in patched, and simply awful to see a woman in. This is symbolic of her mothering technique. Its gone downhill. She can no longer care and provide for her child like she thought she once could. In Paris, her singing outfit is a suit. No longer in dresses and frills, Helen herself has turn cold and is supporting only herself, much like a man who would wear such a power suit. She has abandoned her roles of  motherhood.  Her return home, she is at the door in a luxurious coat. But she sheds it when she tells Johnny the loves story. Here again she is wearing a simple dress, completing her journey and ending it again as a mother.

Something that I thought was especially interesting was the dichotomy between being a mother and being a performer. Not only do we see the difference between these two roles by the way that Helen Faraday/Jones (Marlene Dietrich) dresses, but also there are explicit examples in the dialog that demonstrate the highly different roles of each occupation that Helen Faraday plays. The costuming is very intentional, as we see that when Helen is a mother her garb is appropriate for cleaning a house, where as her garb for performing is highly sexualized. To emphasize this point, there is also a moment where Helen denies being a mother when she is asked if the picture of the boy on her vanity is her son. Even her first husband can’t stand the idea of the mother of his child going back to work–especially if that work is as sexualized as dancing. I think it is worth noting that in both instances these are men, not women, questioning her work role.

In conjunction with the reading, I think it would be interesting to explore the scene in which Helen bathes her son while wearing one of her cabaret dresses. The fusion between a home environment and performance costume definitely makes a statement about Helen’s transcendence from the contrast as a mother and performer in this film.

The negativity towards the single mother is another theme that I saw throughout the film. It seems that when Helen is not with a man she is more suspect to committing crime, impoverished, and accused of being a bad care-taker.  When contrasted with the way her life is depicted as comfortable when she is with a man, the audience can’t help but assume that her flaws exist in the fact that she is taking care of a child by herself. There was a quote specifically targeted towards Helen in the film that called out her mothering skills during the period of time she was a single mother. This line was spoken at one point, “a woman that lives a life like yours is unsuitable to take care of a child.” As much as there are examples of Helen’s perseverance and strength while taking care of her child alone, it can’t be overlooked that the men (or the authority figures) in this film seem to think she is incapable of being a single mother.

One of the issues I had with with the ending of Blonde Venus portrays is that the subversion of economic status that Lea Jacobs brought up in her article carries some unfortunate implications that prevent Helen’s actions from being an entirely positive display of strong, independent femininity. Jacobs implies Helen’s decision to stay as one that is ultimately the best of the possible endings, partially because it goes against “[conformity] to a general trajectory of class rise that was conventionalized and extremely popular in this period.” (24)

However, I see Helen’s decision to remain with Ned at the end to be one that’s simultaneously baffling and contradictory to the film’s own visual language. In the scene wherein Ned confronts Helen about her affair, his face is cast entirely in shadow by the brim of his hat and Helen is, contrastingly, placed in a bright light. Despite what Jacobs says about the “[surmising] that the studio” are the ones who find “Ned’s harshness toward his wife unsympathetic,” the creative direction behind the film itself is pushing the viewer towards that same conclusion (24). This perspective isn’t as unfounded as Jacobs makes it out to be; rather, it’s quite actively suggested within the text of the film.

It’s that single instance in which Ned is demonized (versus the overall neutral stance the film takes in portraying Nick) that makes the ending particularly uncomfortable for me. I have a variant on the studio’s ending in mind that I’d actually prefer over any of the three endings written: Helen returns home to see Johnny once more but realizes that she cannot stay with Ned based on how he has treated her, remaining steadfast in her decision to be with Nick. The arbitrary infidelity and judicial subplot would be erased and, despite the unhappy ending regarding her maternal side, Helen gets to maintain her independent nature. As it stands, the canonical ending leaves the unsettling implication that Helen makes the sacrifice of returning to her verbally abusive husband to be with her child.

I had some final thoughts about The Blonde Venus that we didn’t mention in class. I’ve never taken a film class, and honestly don’t know much about the technical/historical aspects of the film industry (well, at least now I know about the Hayes Code, which is something) so my notes and interpretations of the film were based in the thematic and narrative elements that touch on my background in WGS classes.

I think something incredibly interesting about the film that we didn’t talk about is the historical significance of the title and Helen’s stage name, “Blonde Venus.” In the early 1800s, a South African woman named Sara Baartman was put on display in Europe in freakshows as an oddity — and was nicknamed the “Hottentot Venus” (I’ve linked a quick overview of Sara’s life for those of you who have never heard about her here). This was an offensive stage name and a racial slur aimed the Khoikhoi people of South Africa.

Sara’s naked body was ogled and gawked at by the white Europeans who were both intrigued and disgusted at her different body shape. She was viewed as grossly sexual at a time where sexuality was becoming linked with ideas of morality by Victorian Europeans. We saw the remnants of this pairing during Helen’s “Hot Voodoo” routine in the film, where sexuality was characterized with something taboo and sinful, and was associated with notions of primitiveness, animalistic instincts, and of course, Africa.

I think it is important that the name of the film is “Blonde Venus” because of the ways it relates to the history and ideas about the “Hottentot Venus.” During the movie, Helen’s emergence as a sexual being, starting that first night with her Hot Voodoo routine (where she even wears a blonde afro wig), is juxtaposed and put at odds with her identity as a wife and mother. As a performer, Helen’s body is being consumed just like Sara’s once was, and her performances still have an air of immorality and sinfulness. At that time (and arguably, still today) the idea of a woman who is at once both sexual and a good mother was incompatible, as seen when she is condemned as a bad mother and judged not fit to have custody of Johnny. I personally think that the moments we saw shared between Helen and Johnny showed she was a good mother, who did whatever was necessary to help protect him and sheltered him from the reality of their situation.

Our reading didn’t touch upon this aspect of the film, but it’s hard for me to think that the naming of the film was totally unrelated to Sara Baartman. Even if it was, I think the connection sets the stage for an interesting reading of the film.

I apologize if I misled anyone by my title, but unfortunately I am not posting to talk solely about that Mel Gibson and Helen Hunt movie, “What Women Want” (even though it is pretty great). I included it as my title because A, I thought it was a good pun and some nice alliteration and B, this is the question I found myself asking over and over again while watching Blonde Venus. At first I believed that Helen was the happiest at home as a housewife and loving mother to Johnny; however, even then I found her relationship with Ned to be formal and almost stiff, as if there was some underlying tension not being fully addressed in the marriage. I don’t doubt that she loves Ned, but it seems to be more of a mothering love than a romantic love. She cares for him deeply and this is the reason she returns to the stage, but I didn’t note any true desperation and heartbreak in the fact that her husband and supposed “true love” was near his death bed. To me, she returned to the stage out of simple necessity, but also slightly out of boredom and and a yearning to fill a void. After all, in Germany where she had been free and full of life, she was doing the thing that brightened her most: performing. Thus, she goes back to “work.” (Is it really work for her, though?) Anyway, here’s where things start to get gray for me, because even when Helen becomes a major theater star and all the world is at her feet, I don’t get the sense that she is truly happy. I believe she is attracted to Nick and finds him endearing, but there is equally a wall being put up between the two. I think Helen recognizes the type of man Nick is; he is primarily interested in her physical appearance and the mind that comes behind her beautiful face is just extra. She knows this. She is fully aware of Nick’s motives and lack of genuine care. This is why their relationship falls through when Helen is truly in need of support; Nick disappears for months, maybe even years (it was never really made clear), and it’s hardly even addressed.

I’m going to skip over the tumultuous mess that happens in the wake of Helen’s stardom (not because it’s not important, but because I don’t even know what to make of it yet). Finally, after a very depressing downward spiral (where I’m positive she’s not at all happy), Helen finds herself back in the arms of Nick and discarding the idea of being a mother to Johnny. Again– why? Doesn’t she love Johnny? Is it just a façade? To me, most likely. After all, she wouldn’t have gone through the exhausting trouble of hiding Johnny from the authorities and Ned if she didn’t love him the most. But still– she eventually returns to Ned and Johnny and slowly slips back into the mothering role (perhaps to both of them). Helen now has all she wanted: she is back in her own home with her loving husband and adorable little boy. In fact, one might even say she has returned to square one. But, the question remains: IS SHE HAPPY? She has been through the most emotionally exhausting journey imaginable. Now, at the end of all things when she’s back in the arms of her loved ones, shouldn’t she be ecstatic, overjoyed, and simply relieved? You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Honestly, I just don’t know anymore, because even as Helen settles into her home and returns to the role she always wanted, I felt the same underlying dissatisfaction that I felt from the first scene, even after all that’s happened. Therefore, I can’t tell if this film was subversive, slightly subversive, subversive at times, purposefully non-subversive, or plain and simply not at all subversive. I don’t know. I think writing this post has made me even more confused, so I hope I can be enlightened by you all come 12:45 on Monday. My question remains: What does Helen want?

I had never seen nor head of Blonde Venus before this class, so I didn’t know what to expect. Luckily I was more than happy with what I saw in the film. The film to me still stands relevant today. If you look at the ideas of costuming or a strong independent women being scary to male authority. While constantly watching the film and even our discussion today I noticed there was mentioning of the way Helen dressed. It came to my mind when did mothers begin to have a dress code? Viewing the film from a social justice perspective Helen’s costuming shows he breaking barriers and going against the institution. She is being true to herself in some aspect even though at some point she is in disguise. This point or idea is relevant today when we look at “power suits” for women or the idea of dressing too revealing. Women in 1932 and in 2014 still find it difficult to find a balance to what society says is okay. That’s why I loved Helen’s use of costume while talking to the detective. She’s clearly not dressing to try to pick him up, but she uses it has an advantage. Truly showing how easily she could have outsmarted him. Blonde Venus is also relevant in modern films. Right when I saw the ape scene I thought of Uma Thurman in Batman Forever. Thurman playing Poison Ivy appears at a party in a full ape suit and just like Helen reveals herself by showing her hands first. I thought it was really cool to see that Helen’s actions and Dietrich performance was so strong to still be used today.