Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Resisting Conventions: Gender, Sexuality and Film Noir in Gilda and Bound

While the films Gilda (Charles Vidor, 1946) and Bound (Andy and Lana Wachowski, 1996) are often labeled as belonging to the genre of film noir, there is room within both films for queer gender and sexuality configurations that can resist the ideological work of conventions within this genre. In these two films, this is especially true of conventions of concerns with masculinity and normality discussed by Richard Dyer, as well as the questions of appropriate symbolism, gender disobedience of the femme fatale, and the “exploitation of, rather than investment in, traditional sex roles” addressed by Chris Straayer (46).
Most film noir, Dyer reminds us, is characterized by a certain anxiety regarding the existence and definition of masculinity and normality (115), utilizing familiar tropes of decadence (gambling, drinking of alcohol, criminal activity, homosexuality, etc.) in order to highlight their aberrance as that which is not normal, thus, not masculine. Dyer also discusses film noir’s convention of the woman as the “eternal unknowable” (116), as well as the resulting danger to the (male) hero should this convention not hold. In both Bound and Gilda, vice and decadence are evident and an integral plot point: In the former, Violet’s husband launders money for the mob, while in the latter, Gilda is married to the owner of the illegal casino that Johnny works for. Far from securing Johnny’s masculinity, however, his proximity to the activities of the casino call his masculinity into question via the nature of his relationship with his employer (and Gilda’s husband), Ballin. On their first meeting, Johnny is picked up by Ballin in a back alley in a definitive nod towards “cruising”; he consequently becomes Ballin’s “number two”, working under him in an illegal enterprise. This is hardly the normality we would associate with the hard-boiled detectives and other usual protagonist/heroes of film noir.
Johnny’s gender and sexuality only become more slippery as the film commences, when it becomes apparent that he has become an object of desire not only for Gilda, but for Ballin, as well. In a genre where women have generally been the object of the gaze and desire, Gilda posits Johnny as both (albeit not always at the same time); there is even a point where Gilda herself remarks on how “pretty” Johnny is. Ballin agrees with her statement, and it is obvious from the camera’s lingering glances that we are also meant to gaze upon Johnny, he is there to be looked at and found attractive. Dyer compares this to the position of women in patriarchy, the state of, “…looking, but also to be looked at.”; Johnny is resistant to the genre conventions of film noir in this moment, briefly inhabiting a traditionally feminine place in the scene.
In a similar logic of looking, Dyer’s discussion of Laura Mulvey’s work on woman as an unruly signifier, and one “fixed” as sexual object via stasis or minimized movement (121) is relevant in these films as well. It is interesting how Mulvey comes into play when it comes to the two “femme fatales” of the films: Not only do both women run away (thus challenging said stasis), but both are captured in motion in their introductory scenes, Gilda tossing back her hair and Violet sashaying down a hall in stilettos and a short, tight skirt. Straayer helps us with a further view into the messiness of these women when it comes to applying the conventions of film noir to their characters, as well as with his assessment of Corky’s lesbian “masculinity”. As someone signaled as “butch”, Corky reveals several cracks in the aforementioned conventions. While her butch signifiers, such as a lesbian tattoo, male clothing (undershirt, men’s underwear, painter’s pants), and work boots point to Corky as masculine, Straayer argues she is improperly signaled as such (45) in the film, citing her revealed breasts and the camera’s focus on her body as an erotic object of the gaze throughout the film. One instance of this is in her sex scene with Violet, the femme fatale in the film: In a traditional film noir, the focus would have been on the feminine body and orgasm, not that which is coded masculine- which, in this couple, Corky is. This complication of gender and sexuality appears throughout Bound, where the exploitation of, as opposed to the investment in, certain traditional sex roles facilitate the two women’s accomplishments (Straayer 45), as opposed to the opposite, which is the general convention within film noir.
As for the racialization of queerness, it seems to literally be written on “dark” bodies in Bound, where both female leads are brunettes, and the femme fatale appears to be of mixed race (although which I could not say). It could be argued that Corky’s queerness is viewed as a sort of race by Caesar, who makes remarks that categorize all queers as a homogenous group that “make me sick”. In Gilda, however, nation is more relevant as the exotic locale of Argentina seems to be equated with the dark underbelly of the criminal goings on that are a large part of the plot. Since it is 1946, there are even escaped Nazis (or shady German businessmen one presumes are up to no good) to add to the flavor of Buenos Aires as a dark and seedy place where this dark human behavior could thrive. The dark alleys and cobblestones of the city become the textured background of classic film noir, hiding myriad evil and danger in its characteristic shadows; dark hearts and minds in a dark land filled with what is suggested are “dark” people.
This is one convention of film noir that the film remains true to; below I have attached a clip from an old television show called “Homicide”, whose opening credits are shot in a similar gritty, film noir manner, focusing on shadow, light, and innovative camera angles consistent with the German Expressionist cinema it hearkens from.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AeZLSomwuLw

3 comments:

  1. I appreciate your analysis of the complexities of Johnny’s character in Gilda. Given his relationship with Mr. Ballin, he is positioned as the traditional female through a heteronormative lens of viewing relationships. It’s interesting how his role becomes further slippery when Ballin “dies”, as his inheritance demands a more masculine role of him, but his unwavering faithfulness to Ballin prevents him from forging relationships with women. Despite his marriage to Gilda, he does not pay her the attention and affection that she desires from him. In the film, his homosocial ties take precedence over his heterosexual ones.

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  2. In comparing the relationship between masculinity and femininity within Gilda and Bound, you have a good analysis of Johnny and Violets role in each film. One interesting note to add is that Johnny and Violet both come from "nothing" as the dominating character spelled out for them in each film striking similarities as to your statements on Johnny as a feminine role and his character of being used to look at similar to Violet.

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  3. I like your observation that both women (Gilda and Violet) are introduced with movement. Femme fatale are constantly seen rebelling against their framed expectation of staying static in the patriarchy and Gilda manifest this literally through Gilda’s restless movement (yet dancing at the same time foster her sexuality and attractiveness). The fact that Corky is also constantly associates with movement / mechanic fixing also to a certain extent hints at her exceptional lesbian quality--she is even going further against the convention expectation. It is also interesting to note that though Violet is freeing herself from patriarchal control, she finds comfort in masculine Corky. Perhaps masculinity is ultimately desirable (for both sexes), or perhaps Corky is more feminine than masculine, and their bonding is establish on this ground of sameness.

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