What is a Female Narrative?

I went to see Ocean’s 8 a few weeks ago with a female friend. We were incredibly excited to see a film with an all-female cast, and we appropriately squealed and gushed throughout the entire screening. After the film, we met up with my friend’s mother, who asked if we’d liked the film and whether it was, as she put it, “a female narrative.” I was slightly perplexed by this question, so I briefly described the plot and the characters, to which my friend’s mother announced, “Ah, so it was a male narrative but with women in it.”

Let me break down for you what, I presume, my friend’s mother supposes to be a ‘male narrative’ as opposed to a ‘female narrative’. She is a filmmaker herself and certainly subscribes to a feminist perspective in her life, so this isn’t some weird 1950s-why-isn’t-Sandra-Bullock-in-the-kitchen ideology. What she meant by a ‘male narrative’ is one that presents a plot and its characters in such a way that a traditional conceptualisation of masculinity and power are obviously (and often forcefully) satisfied – think James Bond or anything with Tom Cruise in it. Conversely, a ‘female narrative’ would serve an opposite viewpoint, emphasising a subtler investigation of internal or emotional issues – one which probably doesn’t result in its characters walking away from an explosion whilst donning aviators. It isn’t about the genders of the characters, it’s about how the film drives its setup-conflict-resolution-payoff narrative structure.

But here’s the thing; I like explosions. More to the point, I enjoy a narrative in which the characters resolve their issues by blowing something up and walking away from it – it’s a kind of vicarious catharsis. But, I also enjoy a slow-paced storyline centred on domesticity, internal struggles, and responsible, non-combustive problem-solving. I have as much right to either one of these formats as anyone of any gender.

The issue here, then, is that my friend’s mother is stuck in a binary, essentialist mindset of what femininity and masculinity are. And I don’t think that she’s the only one. We, as a society, are still somehow caught up in this idea of ‘chick flicks’ versus action films, perpetuating the idea that women and men are somehow opposites; that women like soft, romantic, emotion-driven films and that men like the fast-paced, conflict-driven, explodey-bang-bang-dude-gets-thegirl kind of films. But what about the women who like Bond? What about the men who don’t enjoy watching people get shot in the face for fun? What about non-binary people who don’t fit into this weird and unnecessarily gendered market of entertainment? Do they just not watch anything, or is there some kind of secret ‘agender narrative’ film genre that they gain access to when they join the non-binary club?

Even in a world which continues to market films based on gender, why wouldn’t Ocean’s 8 be considered a female narrative? It may not be a ‘female narrative’ in the sense of its premise relying upon subtle action or internal conflict, but it certainly is one in the sense that it is about women. I would argue that, if anything, it is not the structure of the film that makes it ‘male’ or ‘female’, but rather the characters whose experiences it conveys. Ocean’s 8 is a film about women. It shows women seeking revenge, conning rich people out of thousands of dollars, and upholding their families’ honour. I don’t know what part of that can’t be feminine. In fact, familial duty, betrayal, and desire for wealth are fairly common human experiences regardless of gender, so why shouldn’t a film about women include these themes too?

My point here is that narratives are not inherently gendered. There are certainly societal norms and conventions that filmmakers adhere to, but to label narrative structures as either ‘male’ or ‘female’ is to reinforce the binary system that we are fighting so hard to get rid of – the same system that once taught me that my career options ought to be restricted to ‘womanly’ pursuits like teaching, caring, or raising children. These are all very valid and fulfilling pursuits, don’t get me wrong, but I no more want them to be my only options than I want to have my film choices confined to a particular narrative style. I don’t want to feel like I need to jump over some kind of imaginary gender fence every time I watch an action film. I have never felt as represented and entertained whilst watching an action movie as I did when watching Ocean’s 8. For once, I didn’t have to struggle to relate to the characters on-screen; I was right there with Cate Blanchett, with Anne Hathaway, with Mindy Kaling, with Rihanna. I was represented on the big screen the whole way through that film, and in a three-dimensional, multi-faceted way. I got to watch people like me doing things I’d only ever seen men doing before, in storylines that I have always related to but never before been able to truly connect with. I watched as Sandra Bullock got payback and generally kicked ass. If there had been a burning building, you bet she would have walked away from it, sunglasses on.

Don’t try to tell me that this isn’t a female narrative. Better yet, don’t tell me that narratives conform to any gender at all.