Film Focus: Unfamiliar Femininity

“I’m not interested in seeing a film just made by a woman - not unless she is looking for new images.” - Agnès Varda.

European cinema has given us a treasure trove of exceptional female directors who have left an indelible mark on the world of film. With their unique perspectives and groundbreaking approaches, they’ve not only shaped cinema but also explored the ever-evolving theme of feminism. Here, we’ll take a dive into the lives and works of three trailblazing directors and recommend some of their must-watch films.

Agnès Varda

Agnès Varda, was born on May 30, 1928, in Brussels, Belgium, is often affectionately referred to as the “Mother of the French New Wave.” The French New Wave was a period of cinema (1958-1962) characterised by its experimental style of filmmaking, ditching the conventional norms. Over Varda’s extensive career, she created a diverse body of work that blended documentary and narrative styles exploring the human experience. Varda moved to Paris in the 1950s at the beginning of the La Nouvelle Vague movement and became involved in filmmaking. Not solely a director but a visual artist too, she brought a creative versatility to her work. In 2017, Varda received an honorary Academy Award for her lifetime achievements in filmmaking. This made her the first ever female to receive the award; not to mention at eighty-eight years, she was the oldest person to ever be nominated at the Oscars for her documentary Faces Places (2017). Varda passed away from cancer in 2019 at the age of ninety, but the cinematic influence of the mother of French New Wave lives on.

What to watch:

Cleo from 5 to 7. (1962)

Varda’s 1962 French cinematic masterpiece Cleo from 5 to 7, not only enchants audiences with its unconventional narrative structure but also delves deep into the intricate realms of feminism. This evocative film revolves around the protagonist, Cleo, a glamorous singer who grapples with the impending uncertainty of her mortality as she anxiously awaits the results of medical tests. This looming anxiety serves as the catalyst for a profound and introspective transformation within Cleo, forcing her to confront her role as a young woman in society.

In one memorable scene, Cleo, reeling from a discouraging encounter with a fortune teller, clings to her beauty as a lifeline, muttering to herself, “As long as I’m beautiful, I’m even more alive than others.” In the society she inhabits, Cleo’s assertion holds true. Her life, prior to this revelation, thrived on the currency of her youth and beauty. It’s a world that places a premium on feminine desirability above all else, and Cleo is the embodiment of this societal performance. She luxuriates in opulence, draping herself in tulle nightgowns and languishing upon her sumptuous four-poster bed. However, the social wealth she amasses exacts a toll on her personal happiness, as the relentless performance of femininity proves emotionally draining.

As the narrative unfolds, the film meticulously traces Cleo’s journey of self-discovery and inner awakening. She grapples with her identity as a woman in a patriarchal world and with existential questions that transcend her individual existence. Despite the objectification and commodification imposed upon her by the men in her life, Cleo finds empowerment through her interactions with women. It’s in these conversations that she uncovers the importance of solidarity among women and the complexities of feminine self-discovery.

Cleo from 5 to 7 masterfully underscores the weight of gender performance, highlighting the significance of solidarity among women in the face of societal pressures, and illuminating the path toward feminine self-realisation. In this cinematic gem, Agnes Varda not only tells a compelling story but also sparks a thought-provoking exploration of feminism that continues to resonate with audiences to this day.

Chantal Akerman

Chantal Akerman was a Belgian filmmaker also known for her experimental style of filmmaking. Born on June 6, 1950, in Brussels, Belgium, Akerman emerged as a prominent director during the 1970s. Akerman’s work is characterised by its unique blend of minimalist aesthetics and long takes. She directed Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles at just twenty five years old! Referencing French New Wave director Jean-Luc Godard as an influence in her filmmaking, it is clear to see this experimental inspiration in her avante-garde type films. She passed away tragically in 2015 at sixtyfive years old after a life-long battle with depression.

What to watch:

Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. (1976)

Akerman’s groundbreaking cinematic work, Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, has earned its place as an influential masterpiece in the realm of feminist film. The movie delves into the intricate character study of Jeanne Dielman, a widow who juggles the roles of housewife, mother, and part-time sex worker. Akerman’s artistry lies in her ability to plunge the audience into a transcendent state of monotony, employing open, static camera angles and protracted scenes meticulously chronicling Jeanne’s daily domestic routines.

Over the course of three and a half hours, we become intimate observers of Jeanne’s meticulously regimented life over three days. As we watch her carefully execute every task with painstaking precision - from self-care rituals to preparing meals, knitting, and running errands in an eerie silence - we witness the gradual unravelling of her sanity. Each of Jeanne’s movements exudes an air of compulsivity, hinting at a woman desperately clinging to a manufactured semblance of order and control to maintain her sanity. Akerman’s film unabashedly thrusts the female condition of domestic enslavement into the spotlight, asserting that both domestic work and sex work are forms of labour. Jeanne’s involvement in sex work is portrayed without judgment, emphasizing her agency in making choices to provide for her son and maintain her household. Her teenage son remains oblivious to her profession, a secret carefully guarded by Jeanne, mirroring Akerman’s choice to shield viewers from explicit depictions of the act through strategic editing until the final scenes of the film. The film’s sheer length and deliberate monotony, coupled with its subdued pastel-coloured palette and mundane chores, draw viewers into a meditative trance. Gradually, we absorb the overwhelming loneliness and isolation that define Jeanne’s daily existence. During a poignant dinner scene with her son, Jeanne reads aloud a letter from her sister who says, “You’re too pretty to be alone, you only say you want to be alone because you don’t want to complain, I often cry when I think of you.” However, in a later conversation with her son, Jeanne confesses that she never aspired to marriage in the first place, underscoring how societal expectations have moulded her into the domestic role. Jeanne’s character becomes a symbol of gender constraints, alternating between the roles of a mother, housewife, widow, and prostitute, never experiencing the opportunity to realise her own liberated identity fully. As the narrative unfolds, we witness her descent into a silent fury, leading to an unexpected turn that hints at a peculiar form of societal liberation. This disintegration serves as a metaphor for the suffocating nature of traditional gender roles. Despite its formidable running time and demanding content, Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles stands as a compelling testament to cinema’s power as a vehicle for fostering human empathy. Akerman’s magnum opus continues to resonate as a landmark in feminist filmmaking, provoking deep introspection into the multifaceted arenas of women’s lives and the hidden struggles they endure within the confines of patriarchal norms.

Věra Chytilová

audiences in a world rich with irrationality and contemplation.

Indeed, the film leveraged farce as a potent tool to deepen its thematic agenda, shrouding its arguments against misogyny in absurd comedy. However, it would be a mistake to assume that Daisies lends itself to passive viewing. The theme of feminine chaos it explores continues to evoke polarising reactions in modern audiences.

for female empowerment.

In the end, Daisies challenges societal norms, defies categorisation, and remains a testament to the power of cinema to provoke thought and foster change. It is an audacious masterpiece that urges us all to embrace whimsical rebellion and to stand in solidarity with those like Chytilová who seek to challenge the status quo of gender roles.

Věra Chytilová, born on February 2, 1929, was a Czechoslovak film director and one of the most prominent figures in the Czech New Wave, a cinematic movement that emerged in the 1960s known for its satire of the Communist Party (its film industry being a repressive environment) and its use of documentary techniques. Chytilová’s work is characterised by its surreal and experimental techniques, absurdist black humour and feminist themes. A former philosophy student and model, Věra Chytilová’s films portray a unique insight into the feminist perspective and societal expectations of women.

What to watch: Daisies

. (1966)

In the realm of Czech-Slovakian cinema, the year 1966 witnessed the emergence of a groundbreaking work that defied conventions and pushed the boundaries of traditional feminine stereotypes. Daisies stood as a surreal and farcical masterpiece, offering a unique platform for a critical exploration of gender roles, all while operating within the constraints of the film industry of the time.

The film’s defiant nature led to its censorship, albeit on rather peculiar grounds: food wastage. Surrealist cinema, as a movement, adopted a modernist approach to filmmaking.

Figures like Jean Epstein boldly declared the movie projector to be “an instrument of derationalisation,” with the cinematographic experience promising to tap into the richness of intrusive thought. The film fulfils this surrealist promise, immersing

The narrative of Daisies centres around two young women, both bearing the name Marie. These characters personify the epitome of feminine beauty ideals, heavily adorned with makeup, doll-like features accentuated by their large, lined eyes and pouting lips. They intentionally infantilise themselves with pigtails and don babydoll clothing, exuding a coy sexuality designed to allure older, wealthier men. The irony, however, lies in their subversion of these ideals as they subject both the men and phallic-shaped objects around them to destructive treatment. Their performance of feminine desirability serves as a satirical ploy to dismantle the patriarchal system, liberating themselves from archaic gender constraints.

What distinguishes Daisies is the protagonists’ keen understanding of the male gaze. They navigate the world with audacious disregard for societal norms, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake. Astonishingly, the men surrounding them offer little resistance to their audacious behaviour, resulting in a farcical, self-fulfilling prophecy.

A recurring motif throughout the film is the characters’ complex relationship with food. Food, in the world of Daisies, embodies a paradoxical duality. The young women desire it incessantly, yet they throw it around, play with it, and squander it recklessly. This symbolism raises profound questions about society’s treatment of young women, inviting audiences to confront the whimsical rebellion that the film embodies whilst advocating

Although it may appear a daunting prospect, engaging with feminist cinema and the works of these directors can allow for a broader perspective and understanding of cinema as a whole, they are an important part of cinematic history. The beauty of these works is that they need not be watched solely on the basis of their feminist messaging. These films are also recognised as works that push the boundaries of conventional filmmaking, styles and techniques. It’s the cherry on top that they provide us with alternative ideas on femininity, gender roles, and perhaps even a better understanding of what it means to be a woman.

What distinguishes Daisies is the protagonists’ keen understanding of the male gaze. They navigate the world with audacious disregard for societal norms, leaving a trail of chaos in their wake. Astonishingly, the men surrounding them offer little resistance to their audacious behaviour, resulting in a farcical, self-fulfilling prophecy.

A recurring motif throughout the film is the characters’ complex relationship with food. Food, in the world of Daisies, embodies a paradoxical duality. The young women desire it incessantly, yet they throw it around, play with it, and squander it recklessly. This symbolism raises profound questions about society’s treatment of young women, inviting audiences to confront the whimsical rebellion that the film embodies whilst advocating for female empowerment.

In the end, Daisies challenges societal norms, defies categorisation, and remains a testament to the power of cinema to provoke thought and foster change. It is an audacious masterpiece that urges us all to embrace whimsical rebellion and to stand in solidarity with those like Chytilová who seek to challenge the status quo of gender roles.

Although it may appear a daunting prospect, engaging with feminist cinema and the works of these directors can allow for a broader perspective and understanding of cinema as a whole, they are an important part of cinematic history. The beauty of these works is that they need not be watched solely on the basis of their feminist messaging. These films are also recognised as works that push the boundaries of conventional filmmaking, styles and techniques. It’s the cherry on top that they provide us with alternative ideas on femininity, gender roles, and perhaps even a better understanding of what it means to be a woman.