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| “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman |
This is a guest post by Marcia Herring.
“The Yellow Wallpaper” – the short story by Charlotte Perkins Gilman – is almost universally recognized as a work of feminist horror. The nameless narrator, put on bed rest by her doctor husband, and perhaps suffering from post-partum depression, seeks release in the written word and eventually comes to believe that something is lying hidden behind the gaudy yellow wallpaper of her room. Fine fodder for a horror film, if you ask me. The tenuous line between a “true” haunting and the psyche of a woman treated less than human is a theme often explored within the horror genre, often pointing shakily toward the frailty of women lending to their traumatic supernatural experiences. It might have been nice to see an adaptation of “The Yellow Wallpaper” that addressed those themes and countered with themes of its own, offering that same supernatural phenomena as an escape or perhaps a savior from a traumatic real life. Unfortunately, 2011’s “The Yellow Wallpaper,” co-written and directed by Logan Thomas, is not that film.
The film begins by introducing us to the three leads: John, his wife Charlotte (a nod, certainly, to Charlotte Perkins Gilman), and her sister Jennifer. They are moving to a new town after a fire took their house and young daughter Sara. This move comes prompted by an odd gentleman who seems to have sought them out as particular inhabitants: the house comes pre-furnished, and the 1900s realtor asks for nothing more than one month of rent to secure the property. The situation, while convenient (all too convenient, we horror veterans assume), is still less than ideal. All of the family’s money was lost in the fire, so John attempts to find work in town. Meanwhile, Charlotte turns to a strange room in the attic for inspiration while working on a short story. Then supernatural aspects begin to come into play.
When it seems like the presence of their daughter has followed them into this new lodging, Charlotte is comforted, and John increasingly and illogically distressed. (Perhaps, I guess, he is reacting to scenes that missed the final cut of the film.) Jennifer brings a medium friend to help attempt to figure out what is going on at the house, but whatever haunts the walls isn’t going to play nice. [Watch the trailer here.]
To call “The Yellow Wallpaper” an adaptation of the Gilman short story is a harsh overstatement – Director Thomas and co-writer (and star!) Aric Cushing have created a film that unfortunately both relies on the viewer’s familiarity with Gilman’s short story and sets itself up for failure because of its complete disregard for anything included in said story. Unless a viewer has read Gilman’s “Wallpaper,” they won’t understand the strange, wordless scenes in the wallpapered attic room (a room that isn’t given any other context), or the one or two throwaway lines from the story. And if indeed the viewer is familiar with the “source material,” Thomas’s “Wallpaper” will come off as something so bizarrely ignorant of its source text that viewing will be negatively affected.
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| To look at the poster, one might guess that “Wallpaper” is a film about evil sisters! Perhaps rising up against poor, poor John. |
That isn’t to suggest that “Wallpaper” might be a good film without the literary allusions. Far from it. “The Yellow Wallpaper” is muddied with grit and fog and overbearing crashes and bangs of director-composed score. By the time we start to sense where the story might be going, Thomas throws in a twist (or four) that are so far from rational that I actually spent time pausing the film to wonder if I had missed something in a previous scene or if I had mistakenly begun watching another film. “The Yellow Wallpaper” has it all: sloppy editing, a few attempts at CGI and a half-baked mythology all crammed into the last half-hour of the film. Ending with a predictable and expected wink-wink-nudge-nudge scene, the film rolled into the credits while I scratched my head and wondered what, exactly, I had just watched. Anything that might hint at the ending, or any real horror, is left off screen and only referenced as an addendum – not as premonition.
Even as straight horror without any implications of living up to an established narrative, “Wallpaper” plays against some traditional horror conventions – and not in a good way. The traditional horror female experiences the paranormal with a kind of jouissance in direct opposition to the linear/logical “male” perspective that does not allow for any presentation of reality beyond the norm. The story that seems to be building in Thomas’s “Wallpaper” is one of haunting, a missing presence (I say “seems” because [SPOILER: one of the final twists explains that everything is really about vampires].) Charlotte believes the spirit is a benevolent one, somehow connected to her daughter. She takes comfort in this, and she should.
But John, burdened not only with maintaining the household through means both monetary and sane, all without the moral support of his peers that Charlotte, as a woman, is afforded, but also with the fear that can come only from one so logical coming to understand that supernatural events, while completely illogical pass the “seeing is believing” litmus test. He perpetuates the same patriarchy he falls victim to. Perhaps, if he lived in a society where men were permitted – encouraged, even – to take advantage of the homosocial bond in times of grief and confusion, John would not fall so heavily into that linear/logical “male” role that is eventually his downfall.
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| Charlotte and the titular wallpaper. Only in this story, it has no relevance to the plot. |
The film (and the path chosen by directors) reminded me of 2006’s adaptation of Wide Sargasso Sea. This adaptation of Jean Rhys’s classic novel (a feminist look at the Madwoman in the Attic of Jane Eyre) is also written and directed by men, redesigned to star a man, and sympathetic to the male’s plight at the expense of the original female protagonist. Both films go out of their way, in sympathizing with the linear/logical world of the male, to distance themselves from any logic or sympathy to be found in jouissance or explanations that are not predisposed.
One of the many lessons here is that literature, like history, has become another commodity in which the male perspective and experience is privileged. In case it was left to doubt, I do not recommend “The Yellow Wallpaper;” in fact, the scariest thing about Thomas’s “The Yellow Wallpaper” is that two men apparently read Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s short story and thought: “But what about the husband? What about the men?”
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Marcia Herring is a recently relocated writer from Missouri. She is still working on her graduate degree, working in retail, and writing freelance for ThoseTwoGuysOnline.com (one of the guys is her brother) and Lesbrary. She spends most of her free time watching television and movies. She wrote an analysis of Degrassi, Teens and Rape Apologism, contributed a review of X-Men First Class, and reviewed V/H/S, Atonement and Imagine Me & You for Bitch Flicks.