Joanna Schroeder talks about Academy Award nominations gone awry and the complications of male “goodness” in films.
Some of us live and breathe for movies. A good movie, like a good book, will change me. I will dream about it for weeks, if not years. Sometimes the ones that stick with me aren’t even the overall “best” films, but have something to them that catches in my ribs and stabs at me every so often.
The Beach (released in 2000), which was a good-enough movie, had a scene in it that changed me in just such a way. Remember when Leonardo DiCaprio had to go out into the woods to quietly murder his fellow “tribemember” because his screams of agony (due to an infected shark bite) were upsetting the other members of their tribe?
That scene royally fucked with my head. The guy was suffering because they didn’t want to risk having their Utopia destroyed by getting help. One reason it’s so disturbing is because it raises the question of what we will ignore, the silent agonies we all look past in our daily lives for the good of the “whole”; whether that whole is a situation where abuse is happening and nobody speaks up, or a corporation where unethical labor is being utilized to increase profits, or even just looking the other way while someone in your office is scapegoated for a systematic problem.
The Beach was, at its core, something we could all relate to. We’ve all seen our own Utopia, even if just for a fleeting moment, and have wondered what we would do to protect that perfect space.
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For movie junkies like me, Academy Award nominations are like the first wrapped present under the Christmas tree: so much promise of what’s to come. And just like Christmas, there are always disappointments. Some so heinous you think they just absolutely must be mistakes. In 2011, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut by how thoroughly Blue Valentine was passed over, all except Michelle Williams.
Blue Valentine was a film that changed people. For me it was the excruciating consensual/non-consensual rape/not rape scene in the creepy sex hotel. If you saw the film, you probably related to either Williams or Gosling (or both), and probably not in a way you’d wish to relive. It was horrifying to see the pain in Gosling’s face as he was rejected over and over by the woman he loved so dearly. And the tears that spilled down Williams’ face, the way she swatted him away once she gave in to his desperate pleas for sex… I don’t know when I’ve been more gutted watching a film.
It was a story about lost love, about how good intentions can still result in a fucked-up life, about the sacrifices men make for love, for women, for family. The movie as a whole is challenging and resonant because it keys into the fact that often there is no “good guy” or “bad guy” in real-world conflicts. And we want our movie men to be either heroes or villains: Batman or the Joker, Dr. Richard Kimball or The One-Armed Man, Luke or Vader. We don’t want to wonder about the “goodness” of our male heroes.
But it’s the grey areas that make a good movie great, that make the film resonate within us. The grey areas make a movie feel real. In Blue Valentine, there are the very real questions of what constitutes sexual consent within a marriage and the agony that is caused when a person is repeatedly sexually rejected. We don’t want to see that. We want to joke about blue balls, about wives holding out on sex to get what they want. But the jokes only take us further from the truth: Sex, love, commitment, and marriage are hard and complicated and imperfect. And just because a love ends doesn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful to start with, or even at its core.
I think Blue Valentine may have hit too close to home for most people. Maybe the Academy members turned it off halfway through, or maybe they finished it but wanted to just forget it. Or maybe they’re all in perfect marriages and have no idea what it’s like to be rejected, to feel stuck, to feel shame over desire or the lack of desire? Do those marriages even exist?
♦◊♦
Something similar happened this year with the film Shame, starring Michael Fassbender. Tuesday’s Oscar nominations very noticeably lacked even a single mention of the groundbreaking film. Another punch in the gut to me. I was fortunate to be invited to an early screening for press and publicists in Los Angeles. I knew nothing of the film, except that my dear friend Fisher said, “It’s going to be hard to watch, but you must see it. It is so you…It’s about sex addiction.”
“Oh great, thanks a lot, Fisher,” I said. We both laughed, but let me make it clear: I am not, nor have I ever been a sex addict. But I do write about sex and gender and I am deeply troubled over what appears to be increasing rates of sex addiction and “love addiction” in our society.
Fisher and I went to the screening with five or six guys, all of us chatting nervously. We found seats, tried to joke around, but knew that this was going to be heavy. The host of the screening made a little speech about how there is hope at the end of the film. We held out our own hope that he was right.
From the moment the film started, the row of us were dead-silent and utterly still. Fassbender walks across the screen, disembodied by the camera: just a torso with a long, flaccid penis making its way from the bedroom to the bathroom and taking a long pee: the ritual of a man’s morning.
But this is no average man. This is a man barely surviving the excruciating ravages of sex addiction. He is gorgeous, has a perfect body, a big cock, a great job, great clothes, friends, and an amazing apartment. It looks so good from the outside. But every moment of his day is spent either resisting porn or giving into porn, women, fantasy and fucking.
This movie could’ve been a disaster. It could’ve been an erotic thriller like “Sliver”, and it would’ve failed. It could’ve been gratuitous and shown multiple fake-titted porn stars with heaving bosoms. But this movie isn’t sexy. There is a lot of sex, a lot of bodies, a lot of skin, but none of it is erotic. The moment you feel an erotic tingle from one of the images, the director pulls you back just enough to see the whole picture, to see the absolute lack of connection any of the characters have with one another or even themselves. Then you feel ashamed of that first little thrill.
It’s masterful.
And visually, it’s stunning. The director, Steve McQueen (a most ill-fitting name, if you ask me), was a visual artist before directing his first film, Hunger, which also starred Fassbender. Each set-up is masterfully framed. I don’t even want to imagine the logistical nightmare of filming Fassbender in one extremely long shot, running through the dark streets of New York City. But McQueen knew he couldn’t flinch, couldn’t look away from Fassbender fleeing his apartment for a midnight jog while his drop-in sister (Carey Mulligan) has soul-sucking sex with his married boss in his own home.
Fassbender and Mulligan play messy, flawed, beautiful people. They both use and abuse sex, but in different ways: to find love, to find acceptance, to escape pain, to hide from fear, and ultimately to pretend everything is okay just for a few moments. We witness the return to the insatiable need, each time more intense, until Fassbender hits a crescendo moment where ecstasy turns into undeniable agony. It is gorgeously shot, unflinching and unrepentant.
So why is this story universal? Yes, there are a lot of sex addicts and “love addicts” out there, but more importantly, there is something of this brother-sister duo in most of us. I’m not a sex addict, I’m not a love addict, but I have used sex in my past to feel affirmed of my goodness, my worth, and of my desirability. For hooking men, for feeling powerful, for validation. It’s painful to recognize these things in ourselves, but it is important. Healing from those things gave me a deep sense of peace and the sense that my “self” is now grounded on solid rock. But my brain still dances the line between what’s self-serving and what is genuine. All of our brains do, I believe.
You don’t have to be an addict to appreciate the ways in which we all avoid our fear and our pain. Fassbender exemplifies the extreme end of the spectrum, playing out the way addicts can forget about everyone and anything else, and completely lose sight of empathy in order to escape the pain of needing a fix. He shows us, profoundly, what it feels like to want to be punished for the things we can’t help but do. And yeah, it’s painful to see ourselves in him. What have we done to escape pain, responsibility, or hurt? Who have we hurt?
♦◊♦
Was it all just too much for the Academy? Would the movie have been more universally-accepted had there been a traditional redemption narrative to the ending? (I’m about to give away a little bit of the ending here.) What if McQueen had offered an ending where Mulligan and Fassbender show up at some sort of 12-step meeting? Would that make us feel better? Shown them ten years down the line, both married and happy and faithful? Would that have won Shame an Oscar nomination?
At the end of the screening, one of the guys in our group turned to me and said, “I thought there was supposed to be hope at the end!”
I thought for a moment about the little bit of light inside of me, despite the darkness of the film.
“I think the hope is that he’s survived another day,” I said. Because every day we survive is another day to be better, to do better, to treat others better.
And I’m sad the Academy missed that.
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photo: frontroomcinema.com
Great review Joanna and I whole-heartedly agree. Since you mentioned it, I remember Blue Valentine stuck with me for a days after. Shame was the same way. I saw it alone and thought about it for days afterward and I can say it has factored in to my self-perception since then. I’m also not a sex addict, but I’ve had some compulsive sexual behavior that can get stronger with each indulgence. It was also an incredibly beautifully shot film. It’s almost relaxing to see a movie with long, uninterrupted takes. I think our brains need that break from time to… Read more »
I agree on the long takes…
Our world needs to look at itself more, even when it hurts.
good article. Cinema is still subjective and sex and sexuality are still very taboo topics. Bio-pics, historical films etc. always seem to tingle the Academy’s fancy more often than not.
King’s Speech over Social Network last year is one example.
I would call the ratings board inconsistent more than puritanical. The American was an R. Assassination, prostitution, and cunnilingus.
Young Adam, starring Tilda Swinton and Ewan McGregor, earned an NC-17 rating precisely because of the cunnilingus scene, which wasn’t all that graphic even. What’s disturbing, if you look at the films depicting cunnilingus over the past few years, is that those portraying it in a positive light (i.e. in a pleasurable, non-coercive manner) typically are slapped with the NC-17 rating while those depicting it as being under duress, mechanistic, or otherwise without full enjoyment get a pass. The American certainly falls into the latter category, as do films like The Kids Are Alright (compared unfavorably to PiV), Black Swan… Read more »
Right?
NickMostly! You’re so interesting!
I am sure I should know this, but was BV given an NC17 because of the cunnilingus scene (where she was very much enjoying herself) or because of the questionable/maybe coercive sex scene I referenced in the piece? I can’t remember.
I do know that Gosling ranted about how Black Swan got a pass on the oral and theirs didn’t.
I think Jez has an article about it somewhere… Yes, here it is. It says it got the NC17 because of the oral sex, not that horrifying sex scene! UGH!
Williams’ response here is awesome.
http://jezebel.com/5694506/ryan-gosling-questions-patriarchy-dominant-society
Rent “This film is not yet rated.”
Um Nick,
What are you talking about?
The American is most decidedly the former, not the latter… It doesn’t get more tender than a scene where an assassin and prostitute have fallen love. He goes down on her. She moans “slower”.
I didn’t feel like that scene was very tender, but maybe it was because of the dialog. Didn’t he say something about paying for his pleasure, not hers, just before that?
Nick,
Keep your eye on the ball and stop quibbling.
You said the scene in question was either “under duress, mechanistic, or otherwise without full enjoyment”, but none of that is true. Clare most conspicuously enjoyed herself.
I’ll have to watch it again, you may be right. I just remember the scene as him being the secretive, somewhat brooding client (the guy with a good heart and complex history), and her falling for him anyway leading to the moment in question. But my argument wasn’t a strong one; only that looking back at which movies containing scenes of cunnilingus get the label and which don’t, it’s usually those in which the act is portrayed positively. Perhaps this movie would have also earned that label but for Clooney’s involvement? (Can you imagine the headlines if a George Clooney… Read more »
Nick, I need to see this movie. Was it good, overall?
It depends on your expectations, I think. If you go into it expecting a fast paced action thriller you’ll be quite disappointed. There’s only so many minutes you’ll be able to take watching Clooney in front of a lathe. Plus there are the hooker with a heart of gold and loner guy with a complicated past but ultimately sound morals clichés that some find tiring. Those complaints aside, I liked the movie precisely because it wasn’t a traditional hollywood action thriller. It was beautifully shot and decently acted, and although I wouldn’t give it high praise (like I would for… Read more »
You know, I actually watched it! And I really didn’t like it, in fact I fell asleep.
That isn’t to say that the sleeping wasn’t more a reflection upon where I was in life (tired!) and less upon the movie. But I do remember thinking it just wasn’t compelling.
I confused the beginning of The American with the beginning of Hanna. I absolutely loved Hanna, by the way. I’m moderately obsessed with Joe Wright, of course.
This movie rocked my socks. It was so thought provoking for a near dialogue free script. It was a study of quiet moments.
I think what killed it was getting slapped with a NC-17 because of all the full frontal nudity.
I noticed some horrible double standards. Movies with blow jobs can get R ratings. But movies with cunnilingus (ie. Blue Valentine) always get slapped with the NC-17. Bogus and puritanical repression.
Totally agree with you. The NC-17 caused major problems, as it did for Blue Valentine before they moved it down to an “R”.
I was chatting with Julie Gillis last night about how comfortable we are with seeing naked women being hacked up in showers by serial killers, but we are terrified of full-frontal nudity that doesn’t involve violence.
What a mess.
I noticed some horrible double standards. Movies with blow jobs can get R ratings. But movies with cunnilingus (ie. Blue Valentine) always get slapped with the NC-17. Bogus and puritanical repression. Puritanical repression or intentional marketing? Much like the Go Daddy commercials (note: Go Daddy is a web domain registrar in which nearly all of its ads end with a woman about to take her clothes off but just before they come off screen switches to a message that says, “Go to GoDaddy.com to see the full ad) I wonder if this is a matter of intentionally trying to make… Read more »
I was thinking of watching Shame and Blue Valentine back to back, but since good things usually come in threes I need suggestions for another movie to fill that role.
I also need someone to watch them with – neither my partner nor my friends have any interest in seeing either film.
I would suggest watching one in a night and then add something fun 😉
Maybe Melancholia? although I don’t think it’s playing anywhere near me. I do have Blue Valentine on DVD, so maybe I should see Shame as a fun night-out and save Blue Valentine for a night-in double feature? Perhaps something fun as you suggest, like Pauline at the Beach or In The Company of Men would go well with it.
I’m not sure that “shame” will cause more blog fights than Blue Valentine, because whether intentional or not, Dean was definitely filmed as the good guy and Cindy made out to be the bitch. However, motivations around sex and the definition of sex is a mirror into which most people don’t want to look. The subject is really loaded. Can’t wait to see shame. Good stuff Joanna
It’s so funny that you said that, because I never saw Cindy as the bitch. They were both deeply complicated characters, and he was very much mostly good, but he drank way too much and behaved like a child. They had grown, as people often do in marriages, into the extremes of what they had once been. She was responsible, he was fun and uplifting. She became overly responsible for both of them, and therefore controlling and resentful, and he became irresponsible and childish. Thing is, in marriage, we do so much to make “the family” happy and secure that… Read more »
Agreed Joanna
Dysfunction in relationships is always a circle. A dance. One partner moves the other compensates, to keep the dance (or the relationship) going. Often by the time the real issues are seen it’s late in the game. This kind of dysfunction could be either gendered, or male/male female/female. That she’s controlling is in reaction to his childishness. His move towards bad behavior is in reaction to her controlling. And so it goes until things fall apart. Alcohol only makes it worse of course.
If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck sometimes it’s a decoy. This is not a responsible wife/man child husband relationship as you suggest.
Firstly, Cindy is NOT responsible. She can’t even make it through the first 3 minutes without leaving the kennel gate open and forgetting to wear a seat belt. Also she was really responsible when she got pregnant, wasn’t she? Cmon she’s a biology major. Girl is a wreck. Secondly, while Dean is fun he’s cerebral and deliberate.
Cindy is acted and filmed as “damaged”. Dean is acted and filmed as “imperfect”.
Dean is deliberate? Hmm. I think that character is pretty much the opposite of deliberate, but the great thing about art is that we can agree to disagree ;).
And of course I see Cindy as completely frazzled for having to take care of the house, the child, and her husband who seems irresponsible. Again, difference in opinion. I think they were both “good” and like you said, Dean is imperfect and Cindy is damage. I think that’s a pretty accurate assessment.
Yeah it’s art, but the facts are the fact. Dean explains the reason for his choices numerous times throughout the film. And he even warns a guy before he goes after him. Deliberate indeed.
Cindy, however was never responsible pre house, child and hubby. Look at her sex life. No condom?
A gorgeous piece. Hope to survive another day indeed. That’s all any of us really have.
Fabulous review, Joanna. This rang truest: “He shows us, profoundly, what it feels like to want to be punished for the things we can’t help but do.”
That powerlessness is not an illusion, and the moment when we realize it — as Fassbender’s character does over the course of the picture — is so black that it sometimes threatens to swallow us forever. Not surprisingly, it’s also the beginning of our redemption. And I can’t help but feel that the protagonist is on his way there by the end.
Thank you for this! You articulated a lot of my feelings about it precisely. I think a lot of people have written it off as “the sex movie” and aren’t actually giving it its due.
Those sound like a great pair of movies. I haven’t seen either so I shall have to do so. Although I have to confess I’m a little nervous about the gut-renching potential from watching them.
Say it with me.
Most major awards (movie, music, tv, etc…) don’t have the “common” movie fans in mind when the voters behind that stuff decide on what wins what.
Some pretty obscure stuff got nominated this year… This movie, as well as Blue Valentine, had all the fixings of Academy darlings, including TONS of amazing reviews by the best film critics. I think there’s a real issue of how we want to see men on the screen: we want the binary. The all-good or the all-bad. And I firmly believe that this does a disservice to everyone.
Definitely true on the binary people expect of men. A good example of this are the Tyler Perry movies.
In the Tyler Perry unverse there are two types of men. Hard working Christans who have a hard lot in life or immoral criminals.
And I also think this may be why people seem to want to take a male character and make him either a good guy or bad guy even if he dances the line between them (like Batman).
Does it seem to you, Danny, that in general we are more accepting of “complicated” women?
I don’t think so. Just as men seem to have a narrow band of acceptability I think women are bound in similar ways. Either she’s a good girl that is the ultimate victim or the bad girl the deserves everything gets.
Good point. The Virgin/Whore dichotomy. What about Charlize Theron in Monster?
That was an anomaly perhaps.
I think that depends on the viewer. In fact I’d go as to say that you could find mixed feelings about the actual killer Aileen Wuornos the movie was based on. Some saw her as the a girl that never really got a chance (and would probabaly never extend such a consideration to a man in a similar sitation) while som saaw her as a brutal killer that had to be dealt with. Just as with Batman. In the Batman universe some people see Batman as a dark hero (hence his nickname Dark Knight) that is needed while others see… Read more »
I never really understood what was dark about Batman? Then again, I never read the comics, just saw the movies.
Well besides the obvious all black thing there was the fact that he is willing to tip toe just outside the realm of the law to see that justice be done. This is one reason Comission Gordon takes a liking to him, because Batman can “get dirty” in ways that a repsectable cop can’t. At the same time though there are those that think the fact that Batman does such things pushes him over the edge from crimefighter to vigilante. Since you don’t know the comics that well let me tall you about Arkham Asylum. Its an asylum for the… Read more »