Female Filmmaker February (pt. IV)

Girlfriends

Girlhood

For the final features of Female Filmmaker February, I wanted to view films that felt true and pure in its depictions of femininity. A higher dose of the female gaze was needed, and while this month’s previous films certainly featured a healthy amount of this, I can never get enough of the intimacy and familiarity that this POV brings with it. There are plenty of films from women’s perspectives, but not all of them feel as intimate or as considerate or as real as they should. I say this as a fan of the show but when I watch something grandiose and ostentatious like Euphoria, I don’t expect to identify with any of the mostly female cast of characters. Even as character development improves, Sam Levinson will always spend an odd amount of time filming girls’ bodies, but at least he tries to balance it out with some dicks. They’re prosthetic, but I digress. When it comes to stories of girlhood and it’s complexities, I tend to prefer those told by those who’ve experienced it firsthand. I love depictions of female friendships, particularly those where the bonds feel real and the conversations feel familiar. Few pieces of media have achieved this sensation, in my opinion: Broad City, Thelma and Louise, Clueless, Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion, Ladybird, Booksmart, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, A League of Their Own, The Virgin Suicides, and Plan B—just off the top of my head. Both of tonight’s films were able to achieve the same level of accuracy and intimacy, while representing two very different perspectives of girlhood. French director Céline Sciamma is no stranger to subverting expectations of femininity and challenging the limitations of gender as a whole, but her 2014 film Girlhood offered not just powerful exploration into adolescent anxiety, but the impact that race and class have on this as well. Considering the fact that this film follows a young black girl who lives on the outskirts of Paris and joins a gang, it is interesting that Sciamma, who is white, chose to tell this story. When questioned about her choice to make this movie, Sciamma said “I had a strong sense of having lived on the outskirts – even if I am middle-class white girl. I didn't feel I was making the film about black women but with black women – it's not the same. I'm not saying, 'I'm going to tell you what it's like being black in France today'; I just want to give a face to the French youth I'm looking at.” —a complicated answer to a complicated question. Regardless of this, Girlhood is an impeccable depiction of female adolescence and the complications that come with growing up in a female body. Girlhood follows Marieme, a young girl who takes care of her younger siblings and endures abuse from her older brother. When she finds out her grades won’t permit her to go to high school, Marieme stumbles upon Lady, Adiatou, and Fily—a gang of girls who do not work or attend school, but instead fill their days with whatever debauchery they wish to engage in. It felt like a female The Outsiders, but with characters who felt more realistic and with stakes that felt higher. Marieme finds escape in this group of girls, and becomes bonded to them through violent activities like street fighting and nonviolent activities like singing and dancing to Rihanna. Each victory was exuberant, and each defeat felt like a devastating blow. I felt for every girl in this story, but particularly for our protagonist Marieme—who despite changing and hardening over the years, remains to be sweet and easy to sympathize with. It was just as tender and delicate as it was scary and heartbreaking. The entire time I was watching this I was anticipating a gut punch, since Céline Sciamma seemingly loves to do this, but in Girlhood, it felt more like a steady, growing pain in my chest. I would’ve loved a more empowering, positive ending for our heroin, not just because the real world is dark enough on its own, but because I felt like Marieme deserved more. And while I obviously couldn’t identify with Marieme in every respect, I somehow understood where she was coming from with most of her decisions, and enjoyed watching her develop confidence—even if it came as a side effect of joining a girl gang. I enjoyed the moments of deep belly-laughing, the eruption of cacophonous girl chatter that would suddenly go silent once a man came into the frame, the lip-sync dance routine to Diamonds by Rihanna. I would’ve loved more of those things, but c’est la vie. Overall, I was intrigued to view a perspective so different from my own, especially after viewing a movie like Girlfriends, where I could relate a little too much. Claudia Weill’s 1978 film Girlfriends was as indie and lo-fi as they come, with a budget of $500,000 all donated by grants—it was in fact the first American movie to be funded this way. Girlfriends follows Susan Weinblatt, a photographer who lives with her best friend Anne in NYC. But when Anne gets married, Susan has to navigate living alone and discovering her identity as an individual. Girlfriends feels very genuine because like an episode of High Maintenance, it really is just a slice of New York, female, Jewish life—a perspective we’ve seen before, but perhaps never this understated. The perspective here is rather specific, but just like in Girlhood, the sensations it brought with it were universal. From her complicated relationships with her friends, her faith, and her hair, Susan represented a slice of life that felt like it could take place in any destination or point in time. When she’s left to her own devices, Susan does make an effort to go out into the world, but gets easily distracted, particularly by the hitchhiker that she allows to move in, and the affair she begins with her rabbi... Her ambition is admirable and her endeavors all feel realistically clumsy—each conversation with her new boyfriend or her friend Anne and her new husband Martin (Bob Balaban) was hilarious and bizarre and authentic. Susan’s struggle to become a a paid photographer was brutal and hilarious and wasn’t at all triggering to me and my own attempts to become a paid writer. Melanie Mayron’s performance made Susan feel like someone I could actually know, and her friendship to Anne (Anita Skinner) and her relationship to her boyfriend Eric (Christopher Guest) felt believable in their messiness. I loved watching these friendships develop and grow and change and defy time and circumstance and convenience. For Susan and Anne, their friendship takes several forms throughout several life-changing events, but their determination to remain close felt both natural and inspiring. I’m not saying I plan to move to New York to become a starving photographer, but if it meant that a very young and hot Christopher Guest would be waiting there for me, I might just have to do that. I’ve had a blast exploring the depth and scale of the world of female filmmakers, and I know this will not be my last time watching women-directed films, but it was fun to dedicate an entire month to women who make movies—particularly movies made with women in mind. I love most movies, made by any and everyone, but when I can see myself represented in anyway, when I recognize truth and honesty within them, it’s all the more fun for me. Cheers to the women who make movies, the people who appreciate them, and mostly, anyone reading this right now. :) Talk next week?