‘’Mutable and Plastic’’: An interrogation of the Forms and Production of Identity using Denise Riley

 ‘’Mutable and Plastic’’: An interrogation of the Forms and Production of Identity using Denise Riley

In 2000, Denise Riley, a renowned British poet and writer published The Words of Selves which explored the effect of language and irony in relation to the forms and production of identities. She examined the radical suggestion that identities are ‘’mutable and plastic,’’ rendering it ‘’remarkable’’ that they are ‘’periodically invoked and hunted as if...they... had the hard permanence of diamonds” (Riley, 2000, p.131). Identities are socially constructed and spatially contingent despite often being essentialized to represent a fixed, stable sense of self (Holloway, 2010). Identities are defined by ‘’social categories,’’ as well as ‘’socially distinguishing features’’ such as class, gender, age, religion or ethnicity; these factors need to be acknowledged as collective, or unique to one person (Fearon, 1999, p. 1). The disparity between the collective and personal establishes the fact that identities can represent different versions of one’s self, varying across time and space; thus, complicating the forms and productions of identity further. 

An ‘identity crisis’ is a relatively modern phenomenon contrasted with an older definition of identity, suggesting that it relates to a person’s name in the eyes of the law (Fearon, 1999). This definition is still used today but is convoluted by feelings regarding character or personal goals (Erikson, cited in Fearon, 1999, p. 9). In order to understand identity, (or a crisis of) what is required ‘’is not a theory of the knowing subject, but rather a theory of discursive practice’’ (Foucault, 1970, xiv, cited in Hall & Du Gay, 2000, p.6). Demonstrating that identities are not just internal, they are a product of the external world, shaped by wider modes of discourse; such as family values, or ideologies learnt through the internalization of the media. Identity is rooted in lived experience, often through the process of cultural participation in a community, influencing narratives of the self (Wegner, 1998). Social roles shape experience and participation in society. This leads to social relations that contribute towards multifaceted identities which are not one fixed entity; rather are constantly evolving. This evolution is as a result of lived experience which incorporates the past and future, by ‘’negotiating the present’’ (Wegner, 1998, p. 155). This process establishes the mutable nature of identities as their complex trajectories enables them to be spatially and contextually dependent. Generational identities for example, ‘’are invested in ...moments of history,’’ which communicate cultural heritage as an integral part of some identities (Wegner, 1998, p. 157).  By viewing identities as rooted in culture and history, Riley’s suggestion that identities are plastic, could arguably be disproved, as culture and history can be interpreted in different ways, but hold significant meaning for some individuals. 

In order to interrogate Riley’s quote, first, her use of language must be analyzed in order to fully grasp her academic intentions. I first felt discontent when I read Riley’s quote that labelled identities as ‘plastic’ as I felt more affiliation with the belief that identities exist by representing multiple aspects of one’s sense of self. The Oxford Dictionary defines plastic as something which can be easily ‘’shaped or molded’’ and that is ‘’capable of adapting to varying conditions’’ (Warren-Crow, 2014, p.1). This definition implies identities are mutable which I agree with; I however feel that the word plastic has negative connotations connoting a fake image associated with characters such as ‘The Plastics’ from the popular film Mean Girls. These girls are positioned against each other in a power battle for popularity. Their plastic, mutable identities represent a white female, hegemonic and heteronormative fight for the role as lead plastic in order to gain social status (Currie et al, 2009). In this instance, their toxic identities were rightly questioned, as they were causing harm to others through inciting hateful norms. It could be suggested however, that they were not presenting as themselves, but as plastic, mutable objects attempting to gain social recognition. If the word plastic is taken to mean something which fluctuates, then I agree with Riley that identities change across time and space. It is therefore remarkable that something changeable would be hunted without a necessary cause. 

Identities are generated from ‘’common origin or shared characteristics’’ leading to ‘’solidarity and alliance’’ (Hall, 1996, p. 6). Identities can be understood as ‘’never unified and increasingly fragmented,’’ making them never singular, as they are ‘’constructed across different... discourses, practices and positions ‘’ (Hall & Du Gay, 2000, p. 4). An identity is more complex than visual clues, such as skin colour or fashion; these things cannot be taken to indicate any concrete sense of self, as identities represent a multiplicity of identifications. Names given to us at birth are designed to individualize us, this is inherently paradoxical as the very thing intended to make us unique, inscribes symbolic or cultural meaning (Riley, 2005). By names being drawn in from the outside, they are taken to be part of the flesh, unlike a social security number for example, which feels far removed from one’s sense of self (Riley, 2005). Riley uses this example to demonstrate that irony can clarify the ‘’true perplexity,’’ (Riley, 2000, p. 147) felt in relation to a wide encompassing entity, like an identity. By viewing identities as rooted in ‘’the intersection of language, culture and society,’’ (Llamas & Watt, 2010, p. 18) they can be interpreted as shaped by language and the environment. Language is a key discourse to consider when understanding the forms and production of identities as they are ever changing depending on social and cultural contexts (Hall, 1996). An identity is over simplified if it is bound to strict language categories, limiting the variation of identity. When analyzing identities, language is vital to consider as the use of labels influences one’s sense of self through association and then resonance. Labels are ‘’endemically inconclusive’’ (Riley, 2000, p. 89) because identities are not always ‘’adequately captured by categories;’’ which work to define complex conceptions contributing to one’s self (Holloway, 2010, p. 199). It is therefore through language that the changing nature of identities can be understood. By looking at labels and their inefficiency to define us, we can understand the complexity of our identities. 

 ‘’Who we are’’ is often asked in conjunction with ‘’where we are’’ (Dixon & Durrheim, 2000, p.27). Constructing an identity is a ‘’form of self-creation’’ located in a symbolic process of ‘’emplotment’’ (p. 31) where place relations are understood as aligned with the use of language. One realm of identity is spatial, rooted in the process of physical mobility shaping us, as we shape the landscape (Schwartz & Halegoua, 2014). Spatial identities can be seen online but they are not a new phenomenon. Urban flaneurs from the Victorian era have been conceptualized for their movement through space, more specifically for their relationship to ‘’social class, gender and public and private space within the city’’ (Wilson, 1992, cited in Schwartz & Halegoua, 2014, p. 1647). The spatial self is curated to produce an idealized version of the self, demonstrating culture through the experiences of new places. Butler suggested that identity performance is constructed through the ‘’stylized repetition of acts'' (Butler, 1988, p.519). In this instance, it is not only the repetition of acts, but the sharing and reproduction of cultural acts which contributes towards a spatial identity (Schwartz & Halegoua, 2014). This helps individuals to interact and converse with a wide range of people, based on their shared spatial and cultural experience of the world. Symbolic and cultural meaning resulting from spatial identities refutes Riley’s contention that identities are plastic. Lived experience often acts as a shared understanding of a place or culture, which can be drawn upon when conversing with people of different identities, making it present in the form of cultural knowledge and experience. On the other hand, spatial identities do support the claim that identities are mutable, as to travel could require the self to be able to adapt to many different cultural scenarios. 

By using space and place to assess identities, it becomes evident that the ‘’dissolution of place’’ (Harvey cited in May, 1996, p.194) can fracture identities leading to spatial separation, therefore an increase in discrimination. The stigmatization of a group of people based on the dissemination of harmful ideologies can lead to racism based on the notion of ‘’nationhood and belonging,’’ resulting in an oppressed and oppressor (Bhavani & Phoenix, 1994, p. 5). Riley suggested that identities ‘’being constructed from the outside can be no source of relief’’ (Riley, 2000, p.120). Externalities such as observable cultural practices are often interpreted by others as one’s cultural identity. However, this can lead to issues of prejudice when aspects of an internal cultural identity such as self-image, heritage and history contradict an external impression (Kwan & Sodowsky, 1997). If identity incorporates ‘’a material, a social and a spiritual self,’’ it therefore constitutes more than meets the eye (Sampson, 1978, p. 552). Meaning that identities are not immediately obvious, they are a combination of complex internal and external factors which come to shape us.

Alongside incorporating many aspects of the self, identities are grounded and complicated by power struggles, positioning certain identities as ‘other’ (Hall, 1996). This creates a dichotomous, hierarchical system as categories of identity are positioned against each other, creating a winner / loser scenario. Xenophobia occurs when difference is bound up with power, creating a fear of the unknown (Hall, 1996). The racialized, gendered or sexed other becomes stigmatized in favor of the homogenization of culture. This othering can be categorized through discourses surrounding bodily identities. But how is the physical body bound up with the concept of identity? Bodies and identities are both shaped by discursive practices and history, rendering them both to be malleable. The body works as ‘’the signifier of the condensation of subjectivities in the individual’’ (Hall, 1996, p. 24). Our bodies are interpreted at face value, which is subject in accordance to the interpreter. By viewing the body as a marker of identity, gendered assumptions can arise, like in the workplace for example. Women’s professional identities can be constrained by gendered discourses sexualizing the female bodily identity (Budgeon, 2003). From a young age, women are conditioned to ‘’sit, stand, walk, tilt their heads and carry objects’’ in a feminine manner (Trethewey, 1999, p.424). This fragile socialization encourages women to experience their bodies as objects, distancing themselves from their bodily experience. Allowing the body to become docile could be welcoming modification, arguably leading towards plasticity.  Men’s bodies are also expected to adhere to a professional identity, the parameters for them are arguably much more accepting (Budgeon, 2003). Bodies and identities have a fluid and entwined relationship: ‘’the body is intrinsic to the reflective project of self-identity'’ (Budgeon, 2003, p.36). The body cannot be altered to simply align with a different sense of self despite feelings of disembodiment. If the body feels unsatisfactory and in need of restoration, norms which seek to discipline the body are in force (Budgeon, 2003). The body needs to be envisioned ‘’beyond the binary of materiality and representation – the body not as an object but as an event’’ (Budgeon, 2003, p. 36). This would transcend beyond restrictive boundaries which police the body and dictate bodily norms. Overcoming the materiality of bodily identities could allow for free-flowing expression and less rigid bodily norms which constrict some bodies’ movement through space.

Globalization could be argued to be changing the form and production of identities. The digitalization of the self is turning body parts such as fingerprints, iris scans and facial recognition into a form of biometric identity used to unlock a smartphone, or cross international borders. This not only raises privacy and security concerns, but also raises questions about the body and how intrinsic it is to our identities. Biometric systems ‘’are not true proof of identity’’ (Mordini & Massari, 2008, p. 493). This informatization of the body could produce disembodiment as the human identity is being simplified and digitized. The concept of a biometric identity refutes Riley’s idea that identities are mutable, demonstrating that the physical body can act as a marker of an element of one’s self. Identities however are wider encompassing than a fingerprint, identities are made up of a complex web of experiences, characteristics and feelings constructed internally and externally to the body (Hall, 1996). Showing that physical body parts make up an element of our identity, but not the whole thing, as the combination of internal and external factors help us to negotiate who we are in different scenarios.

In the act of performing one’s identity online, the body becomes cyborg which is ‘’ a hybrid of machine and organism, a creature of social reality as well as a creature of fiction’’ (Haraway, 2006, p. 117). To some extent, social media platforms such as Facebook and Instagram could be facilitating mutable and plastic identities as the physical boundaries involved in the communication of an identity are transgressed online. Thus, enabling disembodiment considered ‘’inauthentic’’ due to the detachment of the online world from the physical world (Valentine & Holloway, 2002, p 304). Having the option to change your online age, history, gender, personality or appearance enables a plethora of performances of the self (Suler, 2002). Resulting in an element of competition and hierarchy of social connections online (Seargeant & Tagg, 2014). Users may feel encouraged to present a mutable identity to attract a wider audience, in order to increase their number of followers, equating to a form of social status in some scenarios (Valentine & Holloway, 2002). The production of online identities demonstrates that identities take many forms, these are diverse and show the range of human characteristics. No identity should therefore be taken as a given, instead they need to be acknowledged as fluid and relational to their environment.

Goffman’s (1978) theory of self-presentation suggests that identity cues are given off through a conscious effort to present an idealized sense of self. On social media these cues are often presented in the form of imagery. This places visual pressure on the body to conform to social norms or unrealistic standards regulated as ‘common discourse’ online (Mascheroni et al, 2015). By viewing online identities as ‘front stage’ and offline as ‘backstage’ Goffman’s theory would suggest that imagined audiences reinforce the value of presenting a variable identity, able to appeal to a wide audience online (Mascheroni et al, 2015). Reiterating the importance of Riley’s contention that it is remarkable that identities are hunted when they are ultimately something alterable depending on the context given and the impression one intends to make.

Mascheroni et al (2015) discovered that in Italy, Spain and the United Kingdom, girls aged eleven to sixteen are subjected to peer pressure to visually perform their identities online, then are later scrutinized for ‘’conforming to a sexualized stereotype as a means of being socially accepted by peers’’ (p.1). This research shows that as Denise Riley suggested, identities should not be scrutinized as if they had the hard permanence of diamonds, as they can often be fabricated to gain popularity or to make friends. Acknowledging identities are flexible allows for the free expression of individuality. The negative effects of presenting a plastic identity online should however not be disregarded; as staged hyper-sexualized online can create double standards for young women (Macheroni et al, 2015). The presentation of online identities being polarized along the lines of gender differences, stimulates visual pressure on women to conform; consequently, a tension occurs between ‘’what is socially constructed as appropriate for a boy or a girl and what is actually enacted’’ (Macheroni et al, 2015, p.6). If identities are interpreted as shifting, the presentation of the self on social media should theoretically be a free space, yet it is instead associated with one’s self-worth being imagined as grounded in beauty standards and social acceptance (Livingstone, 2008). The production of identity is therefore worth investigating as it can reproduce harmful ideologies. Identities however should not be ‘’periodically invoked and hunted;’’ (Riley, 2000, p. 131) as everyone has the fundamental right to expression, whether their performance is authentic or not.

Seargeant and Tagg (2014) suggested that a key part of presenting online identities relates to the concept of authenticity. This ‘’acts as a baseline from which this belief can be built’’ (p.7). The most famous and successful social media accounts show intimate aspects of their life, using pictures, videos and text to prove the authenticity of their identity (Seargeant and Tagg, 2014). This identity performance is arguably a construction intended for the public eye ‘’constructed in active processes of... commonality and connectedness’’ (Seargeant and Tagg, 2014, p. 9). In this instance these constructed identities are scrutinized because in some instances they can promote unrealistic beauty standards or materialistic lifestyles (Macheroni et al, 2015). The investigation into online identities can be a necessary process as some online accounts can be harmful for vulnerable people who are susceptible to be groomed for example. The freedom to perform online needs to be interrogated as political accounts are used to influence public opinion through fake accounts for example (Cook et al, 2014). Political activists can gain power online as the volume of people on each site is of major significance. Twitter estimated in 2013 that it had 10.75 million non-genuine accounts, constituting: ‘’fake followers, or accounts associated with individuals with numerous personas’’ (USSEC, 2013; Yarrow, 2013, Cited in Cook et al, 2014, p. 58). The freedom to perform online is a legal right under the freedom of speech act, this however could be up for debate when platforms are used for spreading ‘’misinformation,’’ ‘’propaganda’’ and upsetting images or videos (Cook et al, 2014, p. 59). The virtual world and physical world are mutually constituted as they are incorporated into each other, it is therefore pivotal to question online and offline identities as they could infer wider meanings related to discourse and identity production. 

Political identities can be defined as related to ‘’citizenship, immigration, and judicial issues of membership and group rights’’ (Goodwin et al, 2001, p. 84). Political identities can constitute a category of lived experience, making the ‘’nation state a mobilizer of political emotion’’ (Goodwin et al, 2001, p. 84). By blurring the boundaries between the self, the other, and the nation-state, national polity is dramatized, invoking a sense of national belonging. Nationalism is a subset of political identities which is often gendered and heterosexist (Peterson, 1999). Heterosexist ideologies assume ‘’hierarchical dichotomies that codify sex as male-female...gender as masculine-feminine ...and sexuality as heterosexual-homosexual'’ (Peterson, 1999, p. 40). These assumptions become naturalized through dominant discourses which re-inscribe the use of binaries, leading to power struggles and inequalities. Certain political identities have been historically hunted because binary political views can be a site of great contestation in the case of extremist views such as the Nazis. Worldwide political beliefs can change over time or depending on knowledge, adding to Riley’s idea that identities are mutable.

Identities come in many forms, ranging from political, to spatial, to virtual. In the production of identity there is a ‘’production of the self as an object in the world’’ this sense of self can be created or discovered through ‘’practices of self-constitution, recognition and reflection’’ (Hall, 1996, p.26). Identities are complex entities made up of many physical and internal forms of one’s self. Considering that ‘’the personal is political’’ (Hanisch, 1969, p.113, cited in Crow, 2010), identities can be labelled as highly political, signifying the rigid discourse surrounding many aspects of society. Identities are so important as they ‘’inform self-other representations, embed subjects in meaning systems and collective agency’’ (Bloom, 1990, cited in Peterson, 1999, p.37). By understanding all types of identity, a more inclusive society should follow. Identities are not monolithic, therefore should not be ‘’hunted as if they had the hard permanence of diamonds’’ as ‘’classifications may become dully stiff’’ and ‘’hardened like cooled lava’’ (Riley, 2000, p. 130-131). Acknowledging identities are mutable shows that identities are an ‘’escape from the uncertainty of not quite belonging’’ (Zygumunt, cited in Riley, 2000, p. 131). By moving away from labels and rigid discourses, towards an inclusive fluid view of identity, a better encompassing view of the self can be developed.

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Queer Cinema

Compare how two successfully different popular genres (film noir- Bound and the melodrama - Carol) have been queered.

     Genre should not be thought of as a rigid categorization system, rather as representing ‘’systems of expectation and hypothesis ‘’ which spectators take with them to the cinema (Neale, 1990, p. 158, cited in Stam & Miller). Genre generates excitement and free flowing drama, subsequently producing an emotional connection aligned with the thematic tendencies of film. Genre is constantly changing, but can be classified by a multitude of norms, constructed through mediums such as fashion, speech, lighting or narrative structure. These practices signal to the viewer what is yet to come. The repetition of characteristics may make genre seem ‘’static’’ (Neale, 1990, p. 158, cited in Stam & Miller); however, this is not the case, as genre is a process characterized by diversity; enticing viewers back to the cinema. The hybridity of genres diversifies what we see on screen, mixing and matching cinematic norms to create a wide array of films. Genre is a nineteenth century term, despite the concept being much older; having evolved out of mass-produced fiction (Neale, 1990, cited in Stam & Miller). Prior to this, literature was the common form of popular culture, making film cutting edge and enthralling. 

     Queer cinema offers a critical perspective upon the trajectory of the narrative of film form; offering a reading into the way the film breaks the tradition of genre. The word queer ‘’defies definition’’ (Stacey & Street, 2007, p. 1) by constantly converging against dichotomous labelling systems. Queer theory can be traced back to the 1970s, when it evolved out of poststructuralism and Lancanian psychoanalytic theory. These theories relate to ‘’the sexual subject and the embodiment of desire’’ (Stacey & Street, 2007, p. 1), making queer cinema progressive in terms of representing homosexual desire. Queer theory addresses ‘’a rejection of the biological and essentialist notions of gender and sexuality’’ acknowledging these concepts as ‘’fluid and socially constructed’’ (Dhaenens et al, 2008, p. 340). The term queer has transcended its derogatory roots, moving towards a form of resisting dominant norms. B. Ruby Rich coined the term ‘new queer cinema’ in 1992 as a ‘’style favoring pastiche and appropriation, influenced by art, activism and new entities’’ (Rich, 2013, p. xv). The evolution towards queer cinema created significant discussion surrounding the inclusion and representation of queer narratives, breaking traditional norms such as having two central male protagonists. Henceforth, queer theory attempts to establish gender and sexuality beyond binaries, eliminating hegemonic regulations working to restrict identity categories (Dhaens et al, 2008).  Focusing on inclusivity, queer theory attempts to understand how and why genre influences wider discourse regarding queer narratives. By resisting dominant political hierarchies, and questioning sexed and gendered power relations, the queer analysis of cinema interrogates the process of queer representation as well as the wider impacts of the formal conventions followed.

     The melodrama is not exclusively linked to film; it can be found in theatre and literature rooted in Western culture (Landy, 1991). Melodrama is arguably heightened in times of ideological crisis, grounding the narrative in social issues such as racism, sexism or homophobia. These issues allow the film to clearly label a villain and victim, heightening the polemical style of the genre (Landy, 1991). By tacking social prejudices, the melodrama becomes politically significant, providing a voice to those in oppressed groups in society. Although many melodramas are set in the 1950s, the genre began to emerge in the seventies relating to ‘melodramatic’ modes of theatre, based on passion, crime and family (Cook, 1985). It is worth noting that this presentation of time is idealized, demonstrating what producers in 2019t think the 1950s would have been like. This romanticizes the era, creating a nostalgic representation of history. Women’s film and romantic film are two closely related genres to the melodrama, these sub-themes add to the maternal melodrama, like in the film Carol (Haynes, 2015).

     Contrastingly to 1950s Hollywood melodrama which is classified by ‘’an excessively stylized mise-en-scene'’ (Grant, 2007, p. 11), film noir uses ‘’low key lighting’’ to becomes ‘’a queer thing’’, as it defies definition by remaining mysterious and seductive (Miklitsch, 2014, p.1). Film noir could be considered a style, genre, mood or cycle (Dyer, 1977). Style relating more to ‘’visual motifs,’’ and genre relating more to narrative structures (Miklitsch, 2014). Film noir is not totally defined by any category, but by the ‘’subtle qualities of tone and mood’’ (Schrader, 1972, p. 53). Originating after the second world war in Paris, film noir is an eerie form of ‘’murder melodrama’’ (Naremore, 2008), relying on flashbacks and a surreal ethos enriched with the uncertainty of the unknown. There is no single film noir, a multitude of styles make up the category: ranging from studio noir, to location noir to black noir. This allows for the extravagant expression of genre within the realm of film (Keating, 2010).

     Throughout this essay I plan to use Todd Haynes: Carol (2015) as a 1950s Hollywood melodrama, and the Wachowski’s Bound (1996), constituting film noir to demonstrate how the two genres have been successfully queered. The analysis of queer cinema transcends beyond the screen, representing meaning from dominant discourses surrounding queer representation.  

Queering the Melodrama: Carol

     Carol (Todd Haynes, 2015) is based on the 1952 book The Price of Salt, by the highly regarded lesbian author Patricia Highsmith (White, 2015). The narrative is centered upon a blossoming lesbian romance between (Cate Blanchett as Carol), a white, middle class temptress, and a child-like shop worker (Rooney Mara as Therese). Carol is an unhappy, seductive housewife, who subsequently ‘’pays for her taste of salt’’ (White, 2015, p. 8). Upon their first encounter, Carol prowls around the toy department like a lion watching its prey before eventually pouncing. This ‘’lecherous gaze’’ establishes the predatory nature of their relationship, establishing a ‘’sketchy’’ lesbian ethos (White, 2015, p. 13-14). Carol leaves her expensive gloves behind as an attempt to beguile Therese who is ‘’doe-eyed, callow, and submissive yet watchful’’ (Bradshaw, Cited in The Guardian, 2015). This introductory scene stages the central protagonists as dominant and submissive. Therese’s innocence contrasted to Carol’s flare, signal to the audience that the film is based around their intense romance, despite their character differences in class and age. 

     Carol purchases Therese a camera, enabling her to freeze moments of their shared queer temporality, emphasizing her female gaze. The queering of this melodramatic narrative results in a reversal of the male gaze, commonly found in 1950s Hollywood melodrama where women are presented as passive objects of desire (Mulvey, 1975). Therese’s love for photography allows her a form of agency, able to capture Carol whom ‘’functions as the object of Therese’s gaze’’ (Borden, 2017, p. 93). Still and moving images are portrayed as equally important in communicating the significance of Therese’s view (Merck, 2015). The camera is often obscured by tangible obstacles, such as the curtains blocking Therese’s view during Carol and Harge’s argument, representing the barriers to queer desire in the 1950s with the absence of legal protection for homosexuals. Here, the melodrama is queered as the mise-en-scene is over stylized Therese ironically playing Billie Holiday’s ‘’easy living’’ (White, 2015). Their queer desire is disenabled physically by Harge and symbolically by the curtains signifying distance between them. Haynes positions Therese as an outsider in this scene, her gaze draws attention to their forbidden desires. 

     White (2015) suggests that the viewers are aware of the fate of Carol and Therese’s romance as lesbianism was somewhat forbidden in the 1950s, creating an invisible element to their desire. Their relationship takes place between four walls, this can be contrasted to Jack and Ennis from Brokeback Mountain (Ang Lee, 2005), whom are always in an open outdoor setting. The lesbian desire in Carol is therefore rendered invisible in comparison to Jack and Ennis who are free to express their sexuality to some extent when outside away and from others. Carol paradoxically has restricted freedom, when bound by four walls she is free, yet is still tied to heteronormative ideologies dominating the 1950s, contributing towards the separation of her and her child. The visibility and invisibility of desire is something Haynes toys with throughout the film. Carol and her child’s relationship not often displayed, yet Carol and Therese’s lust is often visible to the viewer through their gaze. Thus, communicating the importance of the female gaze and homosexual desire, contributing to the queering of the melodrama. Through the reversal of the male gaze, the audience are invited to fetishize Therese’s youth, as Carol does. Therese and Carol’s daughter’s visual similarity contributes to the maternal melodrama rooted in the queer narrative. Carol and Therese’s age difference is highlighted when they are intimate for the first time and Carol says ‘’I never looked like that’’, creating a clear separation between the two of them. At this point the narrative switches making Therese the ‘’object of erotic look’’ (Merck, 2015, p. 20).

     The genre of family-based melodrama may feel far removed from film noir; they both however make a political statement regarding the ‘’bourgeois family to the ascendancy and continued dominance of that class’’ (Cook, 1985, p. 74). Carol is very much presented as of a higher class than Therese; her glamorous fur coat, gloves and grand house acts as an insight into her luxurious lifestyle. Carol’s red lips, nails and accessories foreshadow her flirtation. The colour red is often associated with blood and danger, insinuating their love story might not have a happy ending. 

Figure 1. Carol’s class demonstrated through her extravagant costume design. Photo still by Wilson Webb, from Carol © 2015 The Weinstein Company.

       Later, the power dynamic shifts portraying Therese as more glamorous, insinuating her ‘’class mobility’’ (White, 2015, p. 14). The genre of the romantic melodrama has therefore come to represent the social and political struggles of the rigid class divisions of the 1950s. Carol’s upper-class status is contrasted with a clearly enamoured Therese who acknowledges ‘’this furniture, this fabric!’’ in their hotel room (White, 2015, p. 11). Unlike in Todd Haynes’ Far from Heaven (2002), Carol and Therese are not ‘’weighed down with stuff’’ (White, 2015, p.11). The physical locations and material possessions in Carol are branded as meaningless to them, representing romantic loneliness within both protagonists as the emptiness of the filmed locations symbolizes solitude (White, 2015).

     As a stylized film, Carol projects a ‘historical space’ for a lesbian relationship, classified by a clear dichotomy between public and private space relating to the visibility and invisibility of desire (White, 2015, p. 11). Their love is ‘’suspended in time but located in history’’ (White, 2015, p.11); communicated through ‘’aesthetic, temporal, and narrative aspects’’ (Wallace, 2009, p.13). This is demonstrated by how Carol is bound to the domestic sphere, wrapping Christmas gifts with Therese, unable to express her true sexual desire in the confines of heteronormativity. Carol’s entrapment to the family home raises questions about the role taken on by men and women in 1950s Hollywood movies. If stereotypically films set in the 1950s presented a housewife and male breadwinner, Carol disturbs these norms by exploring a lesbian romance (Byars, 1991) . The cameras POV (point of view) contributes towards the viewers perception of each protagonist, creating a clear power dynamic based on the shots from above or below, making the protagonist seem bigger or smaller (Jacobsson, 1999). The film changes narrative perspective, shifting from Therese to Carol as the viewer is encouraged to affiliate with the most vulnerable character; as demonstrated by Carol who is filmed from above while she sits on the floor in figure 1, portraying her as vulnerable and weak. This POV is later repeated in their hotel room (figure 2), demonstrating Carol’s lost agency in a position of diminished power.

Figure 2 & 3 demonstrating Carol (Cate Blanchett) as the vulnerable one as well as the luxury of her items. Photo still by Wilson Webb, from Carol © 2015 The Weinstein Company. 

     Carol as a melodrama has been queered through ‘’twilight images’’ demonstrating ‘’lust and anxiety'', these gestures, glances and a ‘’few, well-chosen words’’ add to the intensity of the queer narrative routed in the melodramatic scenes of sensuality (White, 2015, p. 8). The complex relationship between Carol and Therese is communicated through their shared non-verbal dialogue (Cocozza, cited in The Guardian, 2015). The melodrama has been queered through the stylistic techniques such as the female gaze, not just the characters’ homosexual desires. By using low lighting and shots from the back of the head, the viewer is immersed into the narrative unlike in shot, reverse, shot; a common film technique. This makes the viewer feel as if they are immersed in the interactions, bringing the audience closer to the characters' lives (as shown in figure 4).

Figure 4. The viewer is embodying Therese (Rooney Mara) because the camera angle is from her POV. Photo by Wilson Webb, still taken from Carol © 2015 The Weinstein Company. 

     The temporal setting of the film is at Christmas, thus linking the title Carol to Dicken’s novel: A Christmas Carol (1843). Christmas is branded in America by a typically white, Christian, nuclear family representing heteronormativity. The Price of Salt places emphasis on Therese’s background of abandonment, (as does Dicken’s novel) which is left out of the film. The familial figure of the mother and child are present in Carol, this is however disrupted by Therese and Carol’s sexual desires. Patricia Highsmith, the author of The Price of Salt admits to her own ‘’incestuous attachment to her mother’’ (Merck, 2017, p. 5). This makes the Freudian psychoanalysis of Therese as ‘’the sexually undifferentiated child of the phallic phase’’ convincing; Therese henceforth desires her mother, who in this instance is Carol, acting as her surrogate mother (White, 2015, p. 14). This queer reading positions Therese as childish, dressed in outfits resembling school uniform, making her Carol’s ‘’qusai-daughter’’ (Merk, 2017, p. 2) in a negative Oedipus complex of maternal love. Therese saying yes to everything, is symbolic of Freud’s pleasure principle which incites the notion that we seek pleasure to avoid pain. The pleasure principle drives the id as a form of psychological need (Freud, 1920). When Therese is disgusted by alcohol and asks for hot milk, the viewers are reminded of her abjection as a form of breaking boundaries and disturbing ‘’identity, system and order’’ (Creed, 2015, p.8). 

     The melodrama should be thought of as an expressive code rather than a genre. It is important to question how progressive the narrative of a melodrama is, in order to assess the significance of the piece. Therese and Carol’s romance takes centre stage, overshadowing the melodramatic genre. To a certain extent, their romance is central to the thematic tendencies of the film, not traditional melodramatic characteristics such as a villain and victim, as found in Far From Heaven (Haynes, 2002). 

     Heather Love questions if we must go back in order to move forward for queer representation (2007). The ending of Carol can be read as an ‘’investment in negativity and heartbreak that honors queer history’s losses’’ because their romance could be halted by the negative attitudes of those around them (Love, 2007cited in White, 2015, p. 10). While past queer struggles need to be acknowledged, a positive ending could give viewers hope for the future. The fine line between ‘’productive and paralyzing’’ forms of melancholy contribute towards queer representation on screen (Brown cited in Love, 2007, p. 149). Clinging to the past can be unhelpful in terms of looking forward. It could be suggested that the pleasure in Carol and Therese’s desire, surpasses the boundaries they must overcome because by the end, there is hope for them.

Queering Film Noir: Bound

        Bound (Wachowski, 1996) follows the structure of film noir to create a sexual thriller in which lesbianism is made visible, thus questioning the ‘’patriarchal constructions of women’’ in private and public domains of life (Tasker, 2013, p.354). This structure can be classified by ‘’identifiable aesthetic features’’ (Dyer, 1977, p. 18) such as a traditional film noir mise-en-scene containing ‘’scenes lit for night, rain-drenched streets, doom-laden narration [and] compositional tension rather than action’’ (Cook, 1985, p. 93). In Bound, the noir is queered by the romance of Violet (Jennifer Tilly) and Corky (Gina Gershon) in their cunning fight against the male dominated Mafia. Corky and Violet act as the heroes of the story, on a quest against heteronormativity. 

     Noir is often characterized by the theme of uncertainty, antithetical to traditional family structures and values portrayed in Hollywood melodrama (Dyer, 2004). This uncertainty builds tension throughout the film, especially when viewers attempt to work out if Violet is a ‘real’ lesbian or not (Kraus & Auer, 2000). Alongside this, the uncertain outcome of their battle adds another layer of tension felt by the viewer. This narrative has been successfully queered as typically the femme fatal would lure a willing man into her plan; Bound however replaces this figure with a ‘butch’ lesbian, reversing the gender of key characters (Tasker, 2013). This enables the audience to question how male dominated the film industry is, while also questioning problematic attitudes towards women and individuals in minority groups. 

     Using appropriation and pastiche, Violet and Corky’s lesbian relationship is eroticized, signaling a loss of heterosexuality resulting in a homosexual gaze. Hollywood cinema is fascinated with authentic romances, this eroticizes their desire, destabilizing the gaze by allowing the ‘lesbian look’ to develop ‘’its own subversive dynamic’’ (Kraus & Auer, 2000, p. 190). By presenting Corky and Violet as ‘authentic lesbians’, Bound therefore ‘’dismantles the autonomy of the lesbian look, making it available to the heterosexual spectator’’ (Kraus & Auer, 2000, p. 190), thus questioning the ideology that one can assume sexuality by the appearance of another.

     In the opening scene, Violet, Corky and Caesar are positioned in a triangular shape in the lift. Violet and Corky positioned together, away from Caesar, furthering the queering of the narrative. The dark opening scene of Bound highlights Hollywood's costume differences for men and women by contrasting Violet’s glittery dress with Caesar’s plain black suit. Violet whispers ‘’I want out’’ as the image of Corky’s bound feet appear, representing the desire to escape a world of heteronormativity. The dramatic classical music foreshadows the erotic, fetishized love story entwined in a noir crime story. In the opening scene, the viewer hears Violet whisper ‘’I had this image of you inside of me, like a part of me’’ she then later repeats this to Corky when she says to her ‘’we’re different’’. This difference demonstrates Corky’s acknowledgement of Violet as a fatal femme icon, whose name is one letter away from the word violent. Violet symbolizes queerness, like the violet stripe of the pride flag representing women’s right to vote (Sawer, 2007). The queer relations to her name exhibit the queering of the narrative as violet flowers are closely linked to pansies, destabilizing the homophobic insult (Noble, 1998, p. 4). Her name confirms the suspicions that she is in fact the lesbian noir femme fatal.

     The visual difference between Violet and Corky is a simulacrum of lesbian stereotypes of femme and butch. These categories relate to ‘’forms of social behaviour […] which exploit and manipulate masculine and feminine gender codes and symbols’’ (Rubin, 1992, cited in Morrish & Sauntson, 2007, p. 138). This behaviour communicates gendered identities and desires through performativity. Butler outlined that gender performativity is communicated through the ‘’stylized repetition of acts’’ (Butler, 1998, p. 519). This performativity can be queered, demonstrating lesbian stereotypes which Bound plays on as ‘’co-dependent’’ entities (Morrish & Sauntson, 2007, p. 138). The masculine butch character contrasted with the hyper feminized and sexualised femme. Despite Violet being presented as the femme one, she is still presented as dangerous and intelligent, posing as a threat to ‘’phallic power’’ (Noble, 1998, p. 2). By the end of the film, Violet is recognized as secure in her sexuality, her queered subjectivity acts as a site of privileged identification. Bound uses a ‘’simulacra of film noir’’ to portray Violet’s coming out story as a ‘’queer subject in popular culture (Noble, 1998, p. 3). Violet resists 'the lesbian look’ when she tells Corky ‘’I know what I am, I don’t need it tattooed on my arm’’. These sexuality stereotypes could be oppressing lesbian culture, reducing them to dichotomous male and female ideals. By ‘’perpetuating heteronormative stereotyping’’ the gender and sexuality of Corky and Violet plays contenplates what makes a ‘true’ lesbian, questioning problematic narratives and demonstrating that love has no gender or strict characteristics (Morrish & Sauntson, 2007, p. 138).

Figure 5. Violet (Jennifer Tilly) dressed in low cut lace with a full face of makeup, contrasting to Corky’s Corky (Gina Gershon) messy overalls and vest. Film Still from Bound © Dino De Laurentiis Company.

     The labels femme and butch transcend gender and sexuality, relating to concepts of class, history and age. Corky is presented as working class by her tattoos, ‘’overalls and work boots’’ (Morrish & Sauntson, 2007, p. 150). This is contrasted to Violet whom appears like a 1950s Hollywood star dressed in lace, with a full face of makeup. Violet dropping a teardrop earring down the drain for Corky, paradoxically highlights their class differences by emphasizing Violet’s privilege in contrast to Corky’s manual labor status (Turner, 2018). Despite Violet’s hyper-femininity, she is presented as ‘’powerful, intelligent and active’’ (Morrish & Sauntson, 2007, p. 150). By making the femme character the one who is the ‘’intellectual superior and sexual aggressor’’ (kessler, 2003, p. 18), Bound reverses and questions the characteristics of typical film noir by giving power to Violet. The gaze and the spectacle are separated by the ‘’libidinal lesbian look’’ in Bound (Kraus and Auer, 2000). The binary gender performances therefore perpetuate sexuality stereotypes, whilst also empowering the characters in their fight against the mafia. Violet as a femme is arguably more transgressive than the butch Corky as she is disrupting normative sexuality stereotypes, she is aware of her gender performance, she uses it to be subversive towards heteronormative attitudes labelling butch as lesbian (Morrish & Sauntson, 2007). Corky has her coffee black, drives a Chevrolet truck and has been too prison for five years, these factors all add to the dark mystery of her perceived ‘butch’ persona. Similarly, Violet has been with Caesar and has therefore been associated with the mafia for five years as ‘’part of the business’’, complying in the exclusively male mob life. These five years in both instances, reiterate the extent to which they are both bounded to heterosocial spaces (Noble, 1998, p. 5). Corky and Violets class differences are highlighted by the spatial contrast in the setting in which they are both presented. Corky is living in an empty non-glamorous apartment with a single seductive red wall; whereas Violet is in an extravagantly decorated apartment. Their love and trust for each other is communicated non-verbally, through the camera angles panning over both apartments', demonstrating their unitedness through the one wall that separates them (Turner, 2018). 

     The sex scenes in Bound could relate to both homo and heterosexual audiences as the slow panning camera angles from above, as well as the softer shots of eroticism symbolize a less graphic form of lust and desire (Kessler, 2003).  This lust is based upon emotion and feeling, rather than appeasing the male gaze, like when mainstream lesbian sex scenes include ‘’long hair, long nails and a man waiting close by’’ (Kessler, 2003, p. 14). Bound subverted these norms, making this noir successfully queered. The camera does not invite the viewer to identify with either Violet or Corky; rather the camera is looking in at the action from above, neutralizing an act which is often fetishized on screen. Bodies however are eroticized in Bound; this is evident in the extreme close-up shots of body parts such as Violet’s bare legs or Corky’s tattoos. The sex scene avoids phallocentric shots by focusing more on Violet’s face during her time of pleasure, rather than on the actual penetration as a heterosexual film might (Kessler, 2003). The film still uses fetishistic scopophilia to present the queer romance, as demonstrated by their genuine and intimate romanticism; often found to be exaggerated in heterosexual love scenes. Their erotic desire positions Violet and Corky as spectacles, lingering the camera above them, inviting both male and female audiences to relate to their beauty and desires as universal.

     Corky uses her jewellery to open the briefcase filled with Caesar’s money, ironically one of the few femme things about her is used to defeat the male orientated mafia. Caesar demonstrates homophobic views when he says ‘’fucking queers, they make me sick’’. This creates a heteronormative space in which Corky and Violet are both bound too as it is ‘’all part of the business’’. Traditionally for film noir, the central protagonists are forced to ‘’stare the lie of the American dream in the face’’ when their crime ends in bloodshed (Turner, 2018, p.1). The Wachowskis’ however successfully queer this narrative by scripting Violet and Corky a beautiful pastiche of an escape. They drive away into the sunset to the sound of Tom Jones ‘’she’s a lady’’. This dark use of comedy incites the queering of film noir, as Violet and Corky have played their femininity to their advantage, gaining ultimate freedom. 

Queer Comparison: The Melodrama & Film Noir

     Carol and Bound’s opening scenes both begin with a bounded object: Carol opening with the image of a metal gate, representing the limits to their sexual freedom in a rigid world of stigmatized views (such as those of Caesar). Bound’s opening scene shows Corky tied up, bound to the heterosexual world she is confined within. After the metal gate and opening credits, Carol begins with a man interrupting Carol and Therese’s meal. Similarly, after seeing Corky tied up, Bound shows Caesar imposing on Corky and Violets expressive eye contact in their first encounter in an elevator. In both scenarios the dramatic genres are used to convey the initial same sex desire, halted by the presence of a male figure. On a larger scale, this could come to demonstrate that in a patriarchal society, homosexual desire between women needs to be normalized, to allow for the free-flowing expression of desire with no obstructions.

       Film noir is visually darker than technicolor 1950s Hollywood melodrama; they both however start with dramatic classical music to build tension from the onset. This effect enhances ‘’the sense of depth by separating the foreground from the background’’ (Keating, 2010, p. 203). This is particularly evident at the end of the film when the power dynamic switches to the newly glamourized Therese, whom is in sight of Carol through her blurred taxi window. The colours in the scene are heightened and the camera focus is on Therese, despite the physical boundary of Carol’s dirty taxi window. The repetition of Carols red nails, red lips and other red items of clothing symbolizes her passion, sexuality and danger. Film noir employs a similar technique, painting Violet with black nails to convey the dark, seductive mystery of her character (White, 2015). Violets makeup, hair and style is reminiscent of 1950s Hollywood glamour like Carol who dresses equally as luxurious, although slightly more reserved. Carol and Violet are also portrayed in the same light when they both use smoking as a femme elegant action.

     The power dynamic in Bound shifts from the male to female characters when Corky and Violet plot their crime. Both films contain a ‘crime’, Carol and Therese’s being their escape together. In both films the male characters are the obstacle obscuring the women's happiness. In this sense, both film noir and melodrama have been queered as the threat to happiness is usually another woman, not the male figure. Richard Dyer suggested that the melodrama is threatened when women or homosexuals are the intellectual figures (2008). In this case, film noir and the melodrama have been queered through the reversal of the central protagonists’ power.

     Interpreting a 1950s or 1990s lesbian romance in America historicizes the disruption of the idealized straight, white American dream often explored in Hollywood films such as Of Mice and Men (1992) and Brokeback Mountain (2005). Peele (2007) suggested that there is a new form of queer cinema which is bound to the ‘’white trash’’ identity of ‘’drifters and hustlers who use the road to move […] through the romanticized American landscape’’ (p. 168). Viewing these characters as not rooted to one place, rather as having ‘’restless identities’’ (Peele, 2007, p. 168). In both films, the protagonists’ use the road to escape dominant culture and achieve happiness through their new found freedom. Bound ends with Violet and Corky, (both in blacked out sunglasses to suit the noir) driving away into the sunset ready to hit the road and face their new lives together. Similarly, Carol includes a road trip when she and Therese embark on an American road trip. Both films exhibit ‘’the postwar phenomena’’ of the ‘’automobile as a fundamental expression of individuality’’ (Laderman, 1996, p. 41). The isolation of the car and the road enables queer desire with no judgement or oppression. This voyaging ‘’reflects an ideology of expansionism’’ thus resulting in the spread of acceptance of queer desire. Film noir and melodrama have similarly been queered through the ‘’meandering quality of the narrative’’ (Laderman, 1996, p. 42), as well as forms of escapism and voyeurism which resulted from the protagonists’ queer desires to love freely.

     Films centered around a road or moving narrative such as Thelma and Louise (1991), use female protagonists to make a statement in a male dominated industry by highlighting ‘’ideological struggles’’ of social conflict (Kotsopoulos, 2003, p. 11). By addressing escapism and the lack of freedom, Thelma and Louise is a hybrid film, mixing genres of noir, a road movie and the women's film. Bound and Carol can both be compared to Thelma and Louise in the way that these films all address the oppressive nature of the law regarding homosexual marriage. All three films have two female central protagonists, one in an unhappy relationship, and the other single, reflecting the changing status of marriage in post-war America (Collins et al, 1993). The male figure is presented in a negative light in all films in discussion, allowing the female stars a form of ‘’feminine revenge fantasy’’ (Collins et al, 1993, p. 137). Many queer narratives have been called problematic for enforcing harmful stereotypes (Raymond, 2003). Tragic narratives commonly sanction queer characters ‘’who deviate from […] codes of normative sexual desire’’ (Goltz, 2009, p. 15). The hope left for Violet, Corky, Carol and Therese is a symbolic win for queer representation on screen as what happens in film transcends this and is taken as a form of reality (Aitken & Zonn, 1994). Considering film noir is based around tension and crime, Corky and Violet are committing a crime, the viewer is however invited to sympathize with them in support of their romance.

     Films are often rooted in fiction, despite this; they resonate with viewers by demonstrating the modes of discourse often seen in ‘real’ life in which the audience can relate (Morrish & Sauntson, 2007). The norm breaking narratives of Carol and Bound can be used to show how the melodrama and film noir are queered by resisting dominant power relations. Queering cinema is more than writing about films with homosexual characters. These films represent anti-normativity in the way that they both resisted heteronormative stereotypes, producing cutting-edge narratives, actively questioning gender, sexuality and culture. Both films interrogate the idea that ‘homosexuals [and lesbians] are a ‘particular type of person’ (Dyer, cited in Benshoff & Griffin, 2004, p. 94). By demonstrating that gender and sexuality have no absolutes, the fluidity of these concepts are made visible. Unusually for queer cinema, both films could be suggested to end leaving the viewer with a form of hope. Despite having a happy ending, Bound still uses the concept of crime, positioning the lesbian lovers as ‘’deviant threats to the social order’’ (Kessler, 2003, p. 13). Is it culturally damaging to portray lesbians in this way? I would argue not. Bound uses film noir to empower the queer characters, allowing them the freedom to control their own fate.

     The uncertainty of both endings in question leave the viewer with a ‘’tantalizing taste of the past and glimpse of queer futures’’ (White, 2015, p. 17). The taste of the past is presented as a bitter sweet phenomenon with hope for the future. By depicting romance as more important than family, both texts cause the audience great pleasure in doing so (Merck, 2017). The genres of both Bound and Carol have been successfully queered by the presentation of a lesbian romance which disturbs Hollywood norms. The dark ethos of the noir contributes towards Violet and Corky’s anti-patriarchal fight. Both genres use thematic tendencies such as narrative, lighting and camera angles to demonstrate how progressive lesbian representation can be on screen (Merck, 2017).

     Bound and Carol as noir and melodrama have therefore acted as artful examples of how genre can be queered. The queering of cinema seeks to explore media representations of homosexual desire and push boundaries outside of ‘the norm’. This is vital to understand as the media acts as a form of dominant discourse, influencing how queer identities are understood and interpreted in the ‘real’ world. Through camera angles, lighting, and other characteristics of genre demonstrated in this essay, both films represent anti-normativity challenging hegemonic forms of power. As a result of these successful queer narratives, I hope Hollywood will begin to become more inclusive, allowing for the significant depiction of many minority groups.

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Filmography

Bound. 1996 [film] Lana and Lilly Wachowski. Dir. USA: Dino De Laurentiis Company.

Brokeback Mountain. 2005 [film] Ang Lee. Dir. USA: Focus Theatres.

Carol. 2015 [film] Todd Haynes. Dir. USA: The Weinstein Company.

Far From Heaven. 2002 [film] Todd Haynes. Dir. USA: Focus Theatres.

Thelma and Louise. 1991 [film] Ridley Scott. Dir. USA: Pathe Entertainment.

Word Count: 5,603