The Porn Reviewer’s Dilemma: What’s the Right Way to Talk About the ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ Trilogy?

Most people (rightly) expect more from art than they do from porn; we expect art to offer a perspective or point of view, to have a message, to be more than a spectacle to press the pleasure centers of our brains. … And, while I don’t think it’s wrong to say that ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ fares pretty poorly as art, I do think it’s wrong to single it out, as if our cinemas aren’t full of spectacle already.

Fifty Shades of Grey

Written by Katherine Murray.


“What even is porn, really?” That’s the question I eventually asked myself when I broke my self-imposed boycott on Fifty Shades of Grey. The trailer for the second movie – which looks almost exactly as creepy and aggravating as the first movie, but with more masks – landed last week and, like it or not, a story that began life as an X-rated Twilight fan fiction is now in mainstream theatres, presenting itself as art.

Part of me wants to say it’s foolish to try to talk about Fifty Shades of Grey as if it’s anything but porn. When the novel series first became popular, a lot of the commentary about it involved people who weren’t familiar with fan fiction responding to it as a novelty – with either amusement, curiosity, or some combination of the two. It’s easy to make fun of X-rated fanfic – what turns people on is so idiosyncratic that it almost always seems ridiculous to someone else – but, over the years, I’ve learned to take a live-and-let-live attitude. People can’t control what turns them on, and it’s unkind to argue about it with them. None of us would come off looking awesome if our sexual fantasies were projected on a cinema screen. Even if your fantasy is about men’s domination of women through non-consensual sex and domestic violence – which, let’s be clear, is the central fantasy in Fifty Shades of Grey, even though it’s wrongly presented as BDSM – as long as no one’s getting attacked in real life, your fantasies are your own business and no one should make fun of you or criticize you for them. The world is a terrible place, and it sometimes conditions us to be aroused by things we might not have otherwise chosen. You may as well enjoy it if you can.

When I look at Fifty Shades of Grey as porn, I don’t especially like it, but I don’t judge other people for liking it, either. And that’s where the discussion would stop, if it were playing in an adult movie theatre, instead of a multiplex. The Fifty Shades movies are marketed as R-rated, mainstream dramas – to a certain extent, they’re also marketed as romance, which is a completely different problem, since there’s nothing romantic about this relationship. While it’s very likely the series was marketed this way in order to maximize profits and make the most money possible, it also moves them into a space where they could be considered art.

Most people (rightly) expect more from art than they do from porn; we expect art to offer a perspective or point of view, to have a message, to be more than a spectacle to press the pleasure centers of our brains. Watching Sam Taylor-Johnson’s film adaptation of the first novel (which I have not read), I can see that she tried to make art. The main character goes on a journey from beginning to end – it’s not a very happy journey, but it’s one where she finds the courage to say no to the older, charismatic man who’s slowly taken control of her life – and there’s a sense of finality and completeness. The acting and camera work also convey layers of complexity that the bare bones of the story do not. At the same time, most of it still feels like spectacle. And, while I don’t think it’s wrong to say that Fifty Shades of Grey fares pretty poorly as art, I do think it’s wrong to single it out, as if our cinemas aren’t full of spectacle already.

Fifty Shades of Grey

I get why people hate Fifty Shades of Grey more than they hate other spectacle films, and, in my heart, I kind of hate it, too. Its raison d’être is to let its audience take pleasure in watching a man mistreat a woman and it largely fails to demonstrate a critical understanding of what that means. For a film presenting itself as art, that makes it look pretty misogynist. For a film presenting itself as a beginner’s guide to BDSM, that makes it look ignorant (not even considering the part where the script’s understanding of the physical mechanics of BDSM rates something like -5). For a story that suddenly made fanfic a part of mainstream culture, I think everyone except for E. L. James would have picked a different flagship.

At the same time, the Saw franchise is on movie number eight now, the last Mission Impossible I saw was just about Tom Cruise putting suction cups on a building, I’ve lost count of how many superhero movies only exist to blow things up, and everyone fawned over the American remake of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo in which, I contend to this day, we were supposed to enjoy watching torture and rape. It seems like there’s a special kind of shame reserved for spectacles that are explicitly intended to turn someone on – and there’s a special kind of misogyny reserved for them too, because we live in an amazing culture – but Fifty Shades of Grey is not so different from other mainstream spectacles designed for enjoyment.

As I watched Fifty Shades of Grey, and tried to figure out what I thought about it, and whether or not it was fair to criticize something as art when its original purpose was porn, I also started to wonder whether or not it was fair to criticize The Avengers as art, or Suicide Squad, or the new Star Trek movies where everyone runs and their ships keep exploding. Even though critics try to ask themselves if a movie succeeds on its own terms – that is, if it’s a good example of what it’s trying to be, usually according to the standards of the film’s genre, regardless of whether what it’s trying to be is desirable – it isn’t always as simple as saying, “Hot Tub Time Machine delivered what it promised, so it’s an amazing movie.” It’s also not as simple as saying, “We deserve more from our culture than Fast and Furious: Furiously Fast Fast Furious 16.” Life is a balance between reflection and indulgence, and I wouldn’t want to eliminate either.

I think the answer might be that there’s room for both types of response to any kind of film – no matter what the main intention was. The story you hear is always the product of an interaction between the storyteller’s mind and yours – it’s never completely the same for two people and, what one person is happy to enjoy as spectacle might be the same thing someone else spends hours analyzing and picking apart. Neither person’s reaction is wrong – it just reflects two different ways of engaging. (Ask me some time about how much I hated Mad Max: Fury Road or how much I’m willing to hand wave every single thing in The 100).

So, what even is porn, really? It’s a class of film intended to be spectacle that we could all still criticize as art. I didn’t particularly enjoy the spectacle in Fifty Shades of Grey, and I didn’t rate it very highly as art. But enjoying the spectacle, in and of itself, doesn’t make you a terrible person any more than enjoying slasher movies or an endless stream of street racing films does. The popularity of Fifty Shades of Grey doesn’t make mimicking the actions of its characters any more acceptable than blowing up half of New York or going on a crime spree, either, but, if you want to let it push the pleasure centers of your brain, more power to you.


Katherine Murray is a Toronto-based writer who yells about movies, TV and video games on her blog.

Call For Writers: Sex Positivity

Simply put, sex positivity is the notion that sex between and among adults with enthusiastic consent is healthy. Practicing sex positivity means that we don’t judge ourselves or others when it comes to sex, not the type of sex we enjoy, the number of partners we choose, or the frequency with which we engage in sexual activity.

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Our theme week for September 2015 will be Sex Positivity.

Simply put, sex positivity is the notion that sex between and among adults with enthusiastic consent is healthy. Practicing sex positivity means that we don’t judge ourselves or others when it comes to sex, not the type of sex we enjoy, the number of partners we choose, or the frequency with which we engage in sexual activity.

Some urge critical analysis of the sex positivity movement because desire exists within our patriarchal landscape and, therefore, cannot be seen as separate or free from that oppressive force. However, it remains very difficult to even find examples of sex positivity in contemporary films and television. For example, the widely discussed film Fifty Shades of Grey showcases sex that pushes the boundaries of convention but has also been condemned as glorifying abusive masculinity. Boys Don’t Cry, on the other hand, is a film that focuses on the female pleasure of Lana (Chloë Sevigny) and the healthy sexual relationship between her and her trans* partner, Brandon (Hillary Swank). Because he is trans*, though, Brandon is tortured and murdered, underscoring the fact that we do not live in a sex positive world.

Show us examples of film and television that practice sex positivity, empowering their participants, or engage in the critical debate that questions whether sex positivity can even exist and whether or not it is compatible with feminism. Because sex positivity is complicated and nuanced, are there iterations of media that, on the surface, seem sex positive but ultimately are not?

Feel free to use the examples below to inspire your writing on this subject, or choose your own source material.

We’d like to avoid as much overlap as possible for this theme, so get your proposals in early if you know which film you’d like to write about. We accept both original pieces and cross-posts, and we respond to queries within a week.

Most of our pieces are between 1,000 and 2,000 words, and include links and images. Please send your piece as a Microsoft Word document to btchflcks[at]gmail[dot]com, including links to all images, and include a 2- to 3-sentence bio.

If you have written for us before, please indicate that in your proposal, and if not, send a writing sample if possible.

Please be familiar with our publication and look over recent and popular posts to get an idea of Bitch Flicks’ style and purpose. We encourage writers to use our search function to see if your topic has been written about before, and link when appropriate (hyperlinks to sources are welcome, as well).

The final due date for these submissions is Friday, Sept. 18, by midnight.

The Dreamers

Nymphomaniac Vol. I & II

Hysteria

Bob’s Burgers

Transparent

Spy

Kinsey

Waiting to Exhale

Secretary

Stoker

The Diary of a Teenage Girl

The 100

The To Do List

Boys Don’t Cry

Fifty Shades of Grey

Star Trek: The Next Generation

Say Anything

Masters of Sex

Ladies No. 1 Detective Agency

Duke of Burgundy

 

 

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

Check out what we’ve been reading this week–and let us know what you’ve been reading/writing in the comments!

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Diversity isn’t just an Oscars problem, it’s a Hollywood problem by Angilee Shah at PRI

He, Himself, and Him by Martha Lauzen at Women’s Media Center

Jessica Williams Doesn’t Need Your Permission: How White Feminists Hurt Everyone By Trying To Lead Women Of Color by Mikki Kendall at Bustle

Wednesday Addams Reacting To Catcallers Is Exactly How We Wish We Could Respond To Street Harassment — VIDEO by Kat George at Bustle

50 Essential African-American Independent Films by Alison Nastasi at Flavorwire

Jessie Maple and Her Landmark 1981 Feature-Length Film, ‘Will’ by Alece Oxendine at Shadow and Act

‘Fifty Shades’ Becomes Biggest Box-Office Opening in History for a Female Director by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

Remembering Lesley Gore, Billboard-Topping Feminist by Inkoo Kang at Women and Hollywood

Feminist Ire in All The Wrong Places – The Chronicle of Higher Education by Suzanna Danuta Walters

 

 

What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!

Blurred Lines: The Cinematic Appeal of Rape Fantasy

While Whore stigma is gradually declining, kinky desires remain stigmatized, especially in women. By vocally disowning that desire, “Madonna” Anastasia Steele qualifies herself to serve as an avatar for readers who struggle to acknowledge and integrate their sexual urges. The “displaced consent” model of rape fantasy may be recognized, and distinguished from the “sexual assawwwlt” model, by its masterful Ice Prince hero, whose full control is essential to eliminating the heroine’s responsibility.

FiftyShades


Trigger Warning: Detailed discussion of rape apologism (and some explicit reference to Robin Thicke)


The Myth Of Male Power by Warren Farrell (PhD, of course) is arguably the intellectual foundation of Men’s Rights Activism (MRA). It is also notorious for its rape apologism, using female fondness for fictional rape fantasy to argue that men should not be prosecuted for date rape, as long as they are “trying to become her fantasy.” For the record, I don’t believe rape fantasies cause rape. In the real world, desire is not so easily misunderstood. What rape fantasy does feed, as Farrell illustrates, is rape apologism. Our cultural models of “romanticized rape” shape the excuses of rapists and encourage their general acceptance. We might respond by pointing out that women consent to rape fantasy automatically, just by imagining it, by turning the pages as they read or by opening their eyes to watch on-screen. Since rape fantasy is consensual, it has nothing in common with the violation of actual rape. But with the often coercive “romance” of Fifty Shades of Grey set to rule the box office, now is a good time to ask: what actually is the cinematic appeal of rape fantasy?

 


 

Gone With The Wind: Putting the “awww” in Sexual Assawwwlt

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Rhett Butler threatens to crush his wife’s skull, declares “this is one night you’re not turning me out” then carries her upstairs, visibly struggling. Cut to Scarlett awakening the next morning with smiling pleasure. Her husband threatened to kill her, declared his intention to rape her while she protested, yet she is shown waking up happy the following day. Like Fifty Shades of Grey, this is an adaptation of a female author’s book, cited as sexual fantasy by many female viewers. What’s going on?

Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With the Wind mirrors classic interpretations of Wuthering Heights romancelike Linton, Ashley represents the heroine’s social aspirations, while Rhett mirrors Heathcliff as her primal, resisted passion. This must be understood within a wider tendency by female-authored texts to reject their primary object of desire, which I’ve previously examined for Jane Austen’s Unsuitable Suitor and the “Wolf” of SARCom. In response to such rejection, Twilight‘s Jacob Black forces a long kiss on heroine Bella Swann. Buffy‘s spurned “Wolves,” Spike and hyena-possessed Xander, both attempt to rape Buffy.

This rape-as-romantic-desperation trope echoes the emotional vulnerability of Rhett Butler’s marital rape, where he finally confesses jealousy and desire for Scarlett. As Rhett threatens to crush Scarlett’s skull, the gesture emphasizes his powerlessness to control her thoughts and emotions. Though his role is brutal, supposedly excused by drunkenness, the scene actually affirms Scarlett’s emotional power: he attempts to intimidate her, but cannot; he acknowledges his craving for her emotional approval and his inability to secure it. Treating sexual assault as emotional surrender is the defining feature of this category of rape fantasy, the “awww” in the “sexual assawwwlt.” Because Rhett is the primary love interest, Scarlett’s resistance is a demonstration of emotional power, not lack of desire, as her satisfaction the following morning demonstrates. She is the avatar of female viewers, who both desire Rhett and desire power over Rhett. Our culture views sex as male conquest and female surrender, but “sexual assawwwlt” flips that script: it is female conquest through emotional withholding, provoking a rape that affirms male emotional powerlessness.

The cultural concept of “female sexual power” was born in 411 B.C., with the sex boycott plot of Aristophanes’ comedy Lysistrata. At the time, this was amusing partly because women were understood to have ten times the lust of men. The female fertility cults of Demeter practiced ritual obscenity, the first known sex manual was authored by Philaenis, daughter of Okymenes, and Sappho wrote nine volumes of lesboerotic poetry, all acknowledged literary classics. These expressions of female-authored sexual culture were wiped out by patriarchs of the early christian church. However, the male-authored Lysistrata‘s model of empowerment-through-sexual-resistance survived. “The Rules of Love,” laid down by Eleanor of Aquitaine’s Courts of Love in the 12th Century, included “an easy attainment makes love contemptible” and “jealousy is absolutely required by love.” Eleanor’s influential “Rules of Love” represent an aristocratic female response to social powerlessness, diverting frustration into a sadistic model of love as gratifying empowerment, rather than as emotional fulfillment. Margaret Mitchell’s depicting Scarlett as empowered by her own rape thus reflects over 2,000 years of ideology promoting sexual resistance as an expression of female power. This “female power” of sexual resistance is a poisoned chalice: by separating resistance-as-power from resistance-as-reluctance, it justifies rape as the only way to satisfy female desire, while diverting women from actual social empowerment. “Female sexual power” thus feeds rape apologism and demands male telepathy – a practice best confined to fiction.

 


 

 Fifty Shades of Grey: Madonna’s Like A Virgin

 [youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JMg9InBcgE”]

          If “sexual assawwwlt” represents female sexual conquest, then the “displaced consent” of Fifty Shades of Grey represents disowned responsibility. In E. L. James’ book, Anastasia Steele expresses unwillingness and reluctance to engage in BDSM with Christian, while her consent is detached and embodied as the infamous “inner goddess.” Again, a key to understanding can be found in Jane Austen. Writing at a time of intense Whore stigma, where expressions of female sexuality were harshly punished by the withdrawal of social protection, Austen repeatedly created plots in which the heroine resists her attraction to the Unsuitable Suitor while another woman, usually a female relative, abandons social protection and elopes with him. This constant repetition suggests that the “Whore” relative represents the displaced sex drive of the “Madonna” heroine, an “inner Lydia” comparable to Anastasia Steele’s “inner goddess.” While Whore stigma is gradually declining, kinky desires remain stigmatized, especially in women. By vocally disowning that desire, “Madonna” Anastasia Steele qualifies herself to serve as an avatar for readers who struggle to acknowledge and integrate their sexual urges. The “displaced consent” model of rape fantasy may be recognized, and distinguished from the “sexual assawwwlt” model, by its masterful Ice Prince hero, whose full control is essential to eliminating the heroine’s responsibility. The classic “Ice Prince” of teen SARCom is emotionally intense, but sexually unavailable; E. L. James titillates readers by adapting Twilight‘s sexually unavailable “Ice Prince” Edward into the emotionally unavailable, but sexually intense, Christian Grey.

Compare the earlier Secretary, Erin Cressida Wilson’s adaptation of Mary Gaitskill’s story: the heroine Lee actively requests and provokes the domination of her boss, Mr. Grey, and is depicted in solo acts of masochism and masturbation that clarify her independent desire for BDSM. In BDSM practice, it is the submissive who ultimately controls the play through safe-words and consent, an ironic “paradox of power.” In Fifty Shades of Grey, however, the book’s BDSM negotiations are utterly undermined by Anastasia’s inability to sign or renegotiate Christian’s contracts, due to her disavowal of kinky desire. For sharp analysis of the book’s resulting abusive elements, from the perspective of a practising submissive, see Cliff Pervocracy’s reviews, while E. L. James’ own interviews exemplify covert desire and reinforce norms of respectability politics: “I am fascinated by BDSM, and fascinated as to why anyone would want to be in this lifestyle. Don’t get me wrong – I think it’s as hot as hell, and find Doms hot as hell. I met this guy recently who is a Dom… well… ‘nuff said about that – but he was fucked-up.”

Female director Sam Taylor-Johnson is apparently trying to minimize the book’s disavowal of desire, by emphasizing Dakota Johnson’s lustful facial expressions as nonverbal cues for Jamie Dornan’s Christian. His line “I like to see your face. It gives me some clue what you might be thinking” is prominent in the official trailer. But fangirls now rushing to pre-book tickets are expecting, and will demand, faithfulness to the source novel, including Anastasia’s open reluctance to enter a D/s relationship and her refusal to sign or renegotiate Christian’s contract, which deny her power of consent. E. L. James’ book also shares Gone With The Wind‘s trope of using a sexually aggressive, non-white man to provoke white male heroic protectiveness, suggesting a correlation between mainstream rape fantasy and conservative ideology. How will Taylor-Johnson tackle that? Should we support female directors regardless?

Culture’s association of sexual resistance with (white) respectability, and with (white) entitlement to social protection, acts to detach sexual resistance from lack of desire. Yet, just as Austen’s heroes cannot actually marry both the girl of their dreams and the random female relative who represents her sex drive, a hero’s being justified in forcing himself on an unwilling woman, because her consenting inner goddess is hovering like a sexual Great Gazoo, is equally unrealistic. The seduction of Anastasia may be compared to the seductions of Brad and Janet in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, a rare example of the “displaced consent” trope being unisex, as Brad and Janet’s desire is clear in their visible pleasure at “giving in,” while their vocal resistance reflects social inhibitions and fear of losing status. Janet is shown to be liberated by her coercive seduction, embracing her desires in sex-positive anthem “touch-a, touch-a, touch me,”  while Brad caresses his fetish gear and croons, “I feel se-exy!” However, Rocky Horror‘s flamboyant absurdism helps to underline the fantasy aspect of this rape fantasy, as a hypothetical mental experiment in gender and sexual fluidity. Kids, don’t try this at home.

 


 “Blurred Lines”: Male Readings Of Rape Fantasy

 

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Like its female equivalent, mainstream male rape fantasy centres on forcing the acknowledgement of suppressed female desire. The fact that dominant culture continues to interpret women’s sexual resistance as unconnected to any lack of desire, may be seen in the huge popularity of Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines.” While Thicke’s lyrics include consent-positive lines like “go ahead, get at me,” the feminist backlash highlights the damaging impact of invalidating sexual resistance, not to mention Thicke’s creepy delivery (catchy hook, though).

There is no denying that degrading porn (porn focussed on humiliation rather than pleasure) appeals to misogynist men and to sexual predators, but is that all it does? Can its full popularity, dominating the ratings of porn aggregate sites, really be explained only by a widespread sexual hatred lurking in most men? I suggest that comparison with the female model of “sexual assawwwlt” offers a more complex reading. The male porn performer, like Scarlett O’Hara, is not a direct expression of desire but an avatar of sexual frustration. Popular porn is shaped by commercial pressure; to cater to the male viewer’s resentment of the female performer’s unavailability (to him personally), the male performer must paradoxically punish that sexual unavailability while having sex with her. Compare Gone With The Wind‘s urge to punish Rhett Butler’s emotional unavailability, while he’s being emotionally vulnerable. I suggest that cinematic sexual fantasy can only be understood through this contradictory duality: performers represent their characters’ sexual fulfillment, while simultaneously being avatars for the viewer’s conflicting sexual frustration. These dual pressures shape dysfunctional models for imitation.

As long as the performers are willing and comfortable, there is nothing wrong with a purely cinematic rape fantasy, or with the intense trust of consensual BDSM power exchange, that confront inhibitions while cathartically venting sexual frustrations. However, we must recognize the roots of rape fantasy in a toxic sexual culture that stigmatizes female lust and imagines female consent as disempowering surrender. Fantasy is as good a way as any to explore the resulting tensions between power and desire. But punishing female inhibition with bodily violation, when that inhibition stems from punishing female sexuality, adds injury to insult before rubbing battery acid on the wound. Films become toxic when they blur the lines of fantasy and reality, leading viewers to mistake expressions of frustration for models of fulfillment.

 

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Brigit McCone is semi-apologetically Team Wolf, writes and directs short films and radio dramas.

Bitch Flicks’ Weekly Picks

This week we’ve been reading about how an actress prepares for violence in a film, women directors, the common flaw of TV’s strong women, and more. Tell us what you’ve been reading and writing this week in the comments!

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The Good News and Bad News for Women in Film This Oscar Season by Esther Zuckerman at The Atlantic Wire

Actress Lupita Nyong’o Talks Preparing for Violence in Film ’12 Years a Slave’ by Jamilah King at Colorlines

Is This the Grossest Advertising Strategy of All Time? by Rebecca J. Rosen at The Atlantic

Frozen’s Head of Animation Says Animating Female Characters is Hard, Because Ladies are Really Emotional and Stuff by Rebecca Pahle at The Mary Sue

Will ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ Jump-Start a New Era of Erotic Filmmaking? by Tom Blunt at Word & Film

Weekly Update for October 11: Women Centric, Directed and Written Films Playing Near You by Kerensa Cadenas at Women and Hollywood

TV’s Strongest Female Characters Share One Stupid Flaw by Eliana Dockterman at TIME

Jamie Foxx Will Play Martin Luther King Jr In Oliver Stone-Directed Biopic for Dreamworks/WB by Tambay A. Obenson at Shadow and Act

‘American Horror Story: Coven’ Rape Scene Cheered On By Emma Roberts Haters at Oh No They Didn’t!

Just Spend the Rest of Your Day Perusing These Biographies of Women in Early Film by Maggie Lange at The Cut

Alice Munro, ‘Master’ Of The Short Story, Wins Literature Nobel by Camila Domonoske and Annalisa Quinn at NPR

 The Notorious Life of a Nineteenth-Century Abortionist by Katha Pollitt at The Nation

What have you been reading/writing this week? Tell us in the comments!