If the film Heathers (1989) is a dark comedy about high school social dynamics and a desire to rebel against conformity, Heathers: The Musical brings a modern reinterpretation that tackles complex social dilemmas and delves deeper into the characters’ internal conflicts. The relationship between Veronica and JD remains the narrative center, but is interpreted differently, with an important feminist message.

At first glance, the film’s atmosphere seems typical of 1980s high school life: social hierarchies, popularity issues, toxic friendships, and bullying. In short, the beginning of any high school drama that ends with the same moral. However, almost imperceptibly, Heathers takes an unexpected turn—bold for its time—when JD and Veronica discover the concept of free will and decide to take social inequality into their own hands, ending the lives of those who stand in their way.

If Heathers (1989) was already daring for its time, addressing themes like extreme violence, suicide, and toxic hierarchies, Heathers: The Musical takes these subjects to the extreme, more directly and harshly exploring the dark realities of adolescence. The musical not only retains the film’s cynicism and humor but also amplifies the discussion around various forms of abuse, eating disorders, and sexual assault.

The film follows Veronica Sawyer and Jason Dean, students at Westerburg High. Veronica is intelligent and sarcastic, but feels trapped by the toxic popularity of the three “Heathers”—the most popular girls in school. JD initially appears to be a breath of fresh air from that superficial, suffocating friendship. Yet behind the stereotypically attractive rebel biker look, he is a dangerous killer. JD entices the young protagonist into his web, smothering her with unhealthy attachment and drawing her into a cycle of crimes she can’t stop.

Their relationship is portrayed as one that diminishes, at least for Veronica, her ability to distinguish between reality and fiction. Their dynamic is not that of a typical teen couple portrayed in the media. Instead, they are partners in crime, each driven by their own motives: JD by a pathological desire for destruction, Veronica by impulsiveness and fear.

Though it's hard to pinpoint the source of their frustrations, the two are united by a visceral desire to change society. In the speech JD uses to win Veronica over, he expresses his discontent not only with Westerburg High but with the world, which he sees as hypocritical, obsessed with status and conformity, too weak or naive to face the truth. His nihilistic worldview stems from the loss of his mother and the anti-role model provided by his father, whose path he unconsciously follows.

Veronica undergoes a tumultuous psychological evolution. JD gradually drains her of humanity and reason, turning her into his blind puppet. She is driven by the desire to escape the pressures of her group and to take revenge on those who abused their power. She is torn between the desire for freedom and the need to belong, and her confusion and identity struggles lead her to extreme solutions.

Veronica’s dependency on JD is summed up by the infamous line: “I can fix him.” In what seems like her first romantic relationship and caught in a domino-like chain of murders, she develops an unhealthy attachment to JD, preventing her from leaving the relationship. Over time, her autonomy is undermined as he uses her as bait and an accomplice to fulfill his deranged goals.

The symbolic moment when she wakes from JD’s spell is when the magic of their relationship fades, and Veronica regains control over her actions. From that point on, she finds unmatched courage and resolves to save the school from JD’s bombing plan.

The Heathers

Trigger Warning: Eating disorders, sexual abuse, psychological violence

Heather Chandler, the leader of the Heathers, is defined by a toxic mix of absolute power and deep insecurities. In the film, she is dominant, manipulative, and nearly invincible in others’ eyes. The musical, however, uses its soundtrack to hint at her inner fragility.

In “Candy Store,” she projects the image of a desirable girl in total control. Yet in “Blue,” a subtle reference suggests her struggle with body image. The pressure to maintain impossible perfection drives her toward destructive habits, reflecting a harsh reality many teenage girls face.

Heather Chandler becomes not just a symbol of the cruelty of the social system but also a victim of it. She imposes impossible standards on others and herself in a vicious cycle that turns her into what she despises. Her death, followed by ironic glorification, reveals the hypocrisy of her supposed power.

Heather Duke is marked by envy, ambition, and deep insecurity that turns her from victim to aggressor. Her inner struggle is clearer in the film through her eating disorder—bulimia—a hidden manifestation of her lack of control, dominated by Heather Chandler.

Heather C’s death doesn’t free her—it only makes her repeat the same cycle, adopting Chandler’s cruelty to try to fill shoes too big for her insecurity: “Grow up, Heather, Bulimia is so 87” (The Heathers, 1988).

While Heather Duke is driven by ambition and frustration, Heather McNamara is her opposite: a symbol of the pressure to survive by conforming. In the film, she’s often seen as naive and pretty, following her friends without much thought. The musical gives her emotional depth.

She’s a prisoner of a life not her own. Her popularity is an obligation, not a choice. She must smile, be pretty, adored—even if she’s miserable inside.

The song “Lifeboat” is a key moment, revealing McNamara’s true face. She’s not carefree, but someone drowning under the pressure of appearances. “I float in a boat in a raging black ocean” – the metaphor captures her feeling trapped in chaos, where any misstep could mean exclusion or worse. When she tries to express pain, others mock her. Duke immediately turns into her aggressor, making her a perfect scapegoat. McNamara represents the classic “good girl” or “dumb blonde” trope in pop culture.

One of the most controversial parts of Heathers: The Musical is its portrayal of sexual assault, a theme hinted at in the film but central in the musical.

The song “Blue,” sung by Ram and Kurt, exemplifies dark comedy at its most extreme. The boys sing about wanting to sleep with Veronica, but the language and tone suggest a clear threat of rape. Though the melody is silly, the message is grave—the boys use their social status to normalize the belief they have a “right” to Veronica, highlighting the danger in this dynamic.

While the film treats assault more subtly, the musical brings it to the forefront. “Yo, Girl,” sung by JD’s ghostly victims, reflects Veronica’s trauma after her encounter with Ram and Kurt. The song’s nightmare tone emphasizes how Veronica’s voice is silenced and her reality rewritten, showing how often assault is ignored, especially when the aggressors are “popular.”

In the film, JD is cold and detached—a “bad boy” archetype. The musical humanizes him a bit, which makes him even more dangerous. In “Freeze Your Brain,” JD shares his philosophy: life is chaos, and survival means disconnecting. His self-destructive mindset stems from his mother’s death, his father’s abuse, and emotional isolation. His extreme worldview—if the system can’t be fixed, destroy it—drives his actions.

The scariest part of JD isn’t just his violence, but how he justifies it. When he manipulates Veronica, he doesn’t just demand loyalty but validation—he needs her to say he’s right. This is the core of the “I can fix him” illusion—Veronica, caught in his chaos, believes she can save him. She thinks that beneath all the fury, JD is just a lost boy in need of love.

To her, JD is the perfect savior, ready to shield her from high school. “I’d do anything for you.” But the truth hits hard when JD lies to her—he wants to possess her, not make her happy. The climax comes with “Meant to be Yours,” where JD’s obsessive, violent nature is exposed, and Veronica fakes her own suicide to escape.

A key difference between the two versions is how JD and Veronica’s relationship is framed through a feminist lens. While the film portrays a strong lead, it doesn’t explore the emotional abuse deeply. The musical does—making it clearer.

Veronica isn’t just a victim of JD’s manipulation, but also of her own illusion that she can save him. The musical’s ending stresses that JD cannot be changed, and Veronica must save herself.

She evolves differently in each. In the film, she’s swept into events she underestimates and regains autonomy only near the end. In the musical, she’s self-aware from the start, with the songs emphasizing her inner battle between belonging and doing what’s right. “Dead Girl Walking” reflects her acceptance of mistakes and her path to reclaiming control.

From “I can fix him” to “I can fix myself.”

The final moment of Heathers is a powerful feminist symbol. In the film, lighting her cigarette with JD’s explosion represents her liberation and leaves us with a darkened figure shaped by others. In the musical, JD’s death song “I Am Damaged” brings a more realistic end. Veronica not only survives—she learns. She breaks the cycle of violence and chooses to save herself instead of JD.

Ana: In conclusion, Heathers remains a cult classic that masterfully blends dark humor with social satire. By tackling themes such as adolescent nonconformity, violence, and alienation, the film challenges us to reflect on the dangers of popular culture and its impact on those trapped in its web. With standout performances by Winona Ryder and Christian Slater, a powerful soundtrack, and raw storytelling, Heathers is not just a film about teenagers—it’s a film for teenagers, capturing adolescence without a filter or romanticism.

Lady Macbeth is the 2016 film directed by William Oldroyd serving as an adaptation of the Russian novella, Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, written by Nikolai Leskov and published in 1865, in Dostoievski’s literary magazine, Epoch. Oldroyd’s film preserves the Shakespeare-inspired characters from the Russian novella but combines tragedy with elements of gothic thriller and dark satire (“Nikolai Leskov | Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk”) Here are some subtle, yet important differences between the film and the story meant to shed some light on the nuances between the western and the eastern culture. 

WESTERN VS EASTERN CULTURE

Setting

Film

Novella

• It is set in 19th-century rural England, more specifically in North East England, showcasing the social and economic life during the Victorian Era; an emphasis on an isolated lifestyle.

• It is set in 19th-century rural Russia, depicting the contrasts between aristocracy and peasantry; the same isolated background; emphasis on the wealth from the land (property).

Technique

• Short shots are meant to capture the tension between characters, especially the gloomy atmosphere; predominantly dark colours suggest the tragic ending; and concise and realistic dialogue.

• Clear narration with a detached, dark, and cold tone, focusing on the mysterious nature of the story; an example of Russian literary realism.

Cultural context

• A Western adaptation of the Eastern culture: the characters’ names are changed: Katerina Lvovna Ismailov 🡪 Katherine Lester, Zinovy Ismailov 🡪 Alexander Lester, Sergei 🡪 Sebastian; however, Boris remains the same, as a suggestion of the true power symbol in the Ismailov family (given through inheritance), showcasing the strong cultural resonance of the name; additional element: racial diversity, being visible in Anna, the maid’s character (Aksinya), and the Armenian American actor playing Sebastian (Sergei).

• Reflects the Russian society of the 19^th century, focusing on how men perceived women (toxic relationships).

Female protagonist

• At first, she is seen as a vulnerable young lady who enjoys “fresh air” and “being outside.” However, once she discovers her husband’s and father-in-law’s degrading behaviour toward her, she becomes more and more brutal, emotionally detached, and dark. 

• A playful lady with a sharp intuition, curious and cunning; alienated by society, she does not know the difference between sexual love and affectionate love; victim of female rage: from the mother figure, she becomes the sinful widow 🡪 from the birth-giver, someone who provides the breath of life, to the life-taker, one that takes the breath of life away.

FEMALE RAGE

Interestingly enough, even though the film follows the novella’s plot closely, it is made to appeal to the contemporary viewer’s eye. Racial diversity and power dynamics between men and women, especially between White men and women of colour, are the main modern social issues to be found in today’s highly oppress-ing/-ive and capitalist society. And female rage (something that in 19th-century Russian society would easily have been labelled hysteria), represents the feminist shift director Oldroyd aimed for. Do not also forget that the film’s scriptwriter is a woman, Alice Birch. Female rage is something that blooms out of passion, curiosity, and lack of contact with the real world’s dynamic, in the case of Katherine Lester. Katerina Lvovna, Leskov’s character, on the other hand, is demonized by it. Instead of being considered a hero (in the sense of a conqueror, a person who has, after all, broken harmful power dynamics between genders), she becomes the antagonist of the whole story, having paid with her life, integrity, and status for her choices. This, of course, within the cultural context of the Russian Empire, becomes a valid perspective. Katerina is evil. But what about Katherine Lester? How much of a hero is she, in the 2016 movie adaptation? 

Once again, the answer very much depends on the audience. In Katherine’s case, female rage is first and foremost love-driven, or even driven by the lack of love and attention she receives from her arranged husband. While he leaves regularly to check the mines he inherited from his family, she is left alone, forcefully isolated, and closely supervised in the house on a large country estate in the rural part of England. Even more, from time to time, she gets checked by her father-in-law Boris, who not only makes her feel tense and inferior but also deliberately acts like her second husband, reminding her of the lack of power she will always have as part of the Ismailov family. In the middle of nowhere, with no books to read and no real activity to do (not even housework), rage builds up in her body. She never knew the real world or how should women be treated by men (she won’t get this chance anyway, given the cultural and historical context suggested by the story). This is why she does not know how to react when talking to the other labourers of her home and with Sebastian. The unknown gave her no perspective, not even the one of being a mother, since her husband is constantly away, and seemingly abusive with her at home. The lack of interest she is shown makes her feel intrigued once Sebastian shows interest in her and then breaks into her bedroom at night. Not to mention that Katherine is a woman in her twenties who did not seem to have a choice when she married a man almost twice her age. Both Katherine and Katerina lack the knowledge of affectionate love above all else. Sexual love becomes an etiquette they learn to wear once they assume the role of ‘the mother,’ a nurturing figure both for the man and for the child. Female nature, on the other hand, comes at the surface in need of authentic contact with reality, as a feminist cry for help. Although Sebastian and Sergei show a boldness that is missing from the character of both the husband and the father-in-law, this aspect proves to be fatal for the female protagonist. If she has been tied up too long, she becomes aggressive. In both the movie and the novella, the figure of Katerina Lvovna symbolizes the dangers of the lack of authority over your own body and mind as a woman.

MALE RAGE 

• contextualized in Katherine’s and Alexander’s relationship)

Alexander’s and Katherine’s past is not covered by the movie’s storyline, and this seems to be a symbolic choice rather than a purely directorial one. Although there are implicit details of this past that are betrayed by our character’s behaviours, everything seems to be laid out in such a blurry way, at least in the beginning, before everything coalesces into a whole, to impact the viewer. That is to say that, by not revealing their past explicitly, the scriptwriter perhaps wants to relate that everyone’s behaviour has severe consequences in real life, and no explanatory past can cushion their impact. Chronologically, the movie follows a pattern of increasingly maladaptive emotions and regrettable behaviours, whether we talk about malevolent inquisition, authority, control, projected hypochondria, possessiveness, morbid jealousy, or violence. 

Focusing on Alexander, male violence and possessive behaviour pervade his whole presence. Through these, he is creating an image of authority, superiority, and power, which he is in very much need of, considering that he married a woman constantly wanting to break free (as she should, I might add), that challenges him. A recurring episode that proves this point is Alexander repeatedly demanding Katherine to strip her body bare (“Stand up. Stop smiling. Take your nightgown off” is what he says). She listens to him and performs everything robotically, while he is either masturbating at the sight of her nakedness, the closest that he gets sexually to her, or ignoring her and going to bed as if he has asked for nothing at all. Another demonstrative episode would be Alexander’s return from the duties that kept him at a distance from his wife and home. He confronts Katherine about her affair and starts to attack her verbally by making demeaning comments on her body, such as “You got larger, fatter. You have become a whore in my absence. You’ve gotten foul-smelling. I don’t like owning a whore. You will remain here indoors with your prayer book.” Furthermore, 

the fact that he doesn’t have sex with his wife might lead the spectators to think that Alexander, too, probably cheats on his wife, which sheds light on how generally, more predominantly back in the day, men having affairs is seen as something normal, while for women it is abominable. This becomes a truth when a woman and a child show up at Alexander’s house, claiming that he conceived a child with the woman’s daughter. 

• contextualized in the male workers’ behaviours

Some hired workers take a break from their outdoor chores and ‘have fun’ by undressing Anna, the black maid, and placing her body inside a gunnysack hanging above the floor. They slap her glutes and touch her private parts, all this just to ‘have fun’. She’s visibly in pain, cries, and screams, while the other men keep smiling and cheering. When Katherine discovers this, she applies the authority she learned from her husband, punishing the workers by being very directive and imperative, but then she switches from this type of behaviour to one of curiosity, asking Sebastian, “How much would I weigh?” (referring to the now empty hanging gunnysack), to which Sebastian answers with, “You want me to check?” and proceeds to lift Katherine. An altercation happens then, ending up with Katherine not being abused, fortunately. This episode illustrates the power dynamics of male rage – a well-provisioned source to be used for exploiting others. Similarly, another episode that clarifies how male rage manifests itself revolves around Sebastian, the worker who abused Anna, and who breaks into Katherine’s room with brute force, confessing that he’s bored, appealing to her sexually satisfying him. The spectators are left to think she will be raped, but after he kisses her and there’s a small break of silence, she reaches for his mouth and kisses him. They end up having sex and that’s how their affair starts. From now on, Katherine’s problem will be insomnia, as opposed to being too dozy back when she was totally unsatisfied sexually by her husband. The sexual intercourse happens again and there’s an improvement in Katherine’s mood, which concerns the maids. Even in times of vulnerability, male rage destroys occasions of emotional deepening. For instance, when Katherine tells Sebastian that her husband couldn’t have sex with her, Sebastian, angry with her and anxious because of their murder (killing Alexander), corrects her, “He wouldn’t have sex with you,” implying that this was a choice based on her appearance.

Katherine seems to be absorbing this male rage turning it into her own. The way she acts and deals with situations shows that she’s fragile and has an underdeveloped spirit due to being locked inside the house by Alexander and never being exposed to forming experiences. Although this constitutes Alexander’s intention to control his wife, the outcome is different. Instead of complying, Katherine becomes defensive, learning and transforming herself into his own husband, then into Sebastian, when speaking about their rage. Alexander’s newly discovered child, when treated harshly by Katherine who has a mental breakdown at the sight of Sebastian fleeing the property, ends up isolating himself in the woods. Sebastian finds him and brings him home, in an attempt at redemption, trying to get into the good graces of the child’s grandmother, which doesn’t happen. The child’s health is in poor condition and Katherine, controlled again by the male rage that she imitates and internalizes, smothers him with a pillow. In the end, when confronted by Sebastian, who confesses their crimes in front of everyone, she manages to negate everything and put the blame on Anna and Sebastian. Katherine is believed, as she has an incredible power of dissimulation. 

INTERSECTIONALITY

Intersectionality is explored in the film through Anna’s character, which is more visible here than it is in the novella. In the film, Anna is the key witness of Katherine’s immorality, so tension is built, this time, through the controversial attempt to produce a woman of colour character who seems to be superior to the White, privileged female protagonist. Moreover, Anna is seen to ‘take care’ of Katherine while her husband is away, bathing her, combing her hair, preparing her dress, etc. By depicting the mammy figure, not only does she reinforce the image of the White, fragile woman in a strongly patriarchal society, but she also attempts to rebel against the White power by visibly changing her attitude toward Katherine once she sees her going outside more, despite the masters’ strict indications. In the novella, however, Aksinya’s presence is barely observable, as she is only establishing the social dynamics in the household rather than influencing the plot of the story. After a conflict with Sergei, Aksinya’s presence slowly fades from the story, while Anna’s presence in the 2016 film is meant to remind the viewer of the suffering produced by the oppressive environment Katherine is developing in. The black maid’s destiny comprises both her cry for help in the face of injustice, as well as Katherine’s, as she was cared for by Anna at the beginning of her life with the Ismailov family. Anna’s actions represent singular acts of genuine love (as it could be understood in the cultural context of the Victorian Era) that Katherine witnesses throughout the whole movie. And of course, it is not enough, because the act of love should not be born out of dominant versus submissive social roles, or from inversions thereof. Katherine and Anna mirror their social status through one another: inferior(ity) and humility toward their male counterpart. While one does not have the chance to take her revenge, the other surely does. 

CONCLUSION

In conclusion, the 2016 movie adaptation of Leskov’s novella constitutes a powerfully crafted media product meant to encourage a modern, feminist read of the 19th-century Russian novella. The Western-based re-configuration, and the introduction produce this shift of perspective, and consequently the use of the female rage concept, and depictions of intersectionality through racially diverse characters. Even though both the film and the novella start by showing a vulnerable and easy-to-be-manipulated female protagonist, the film’s ending allows viewers to understand that Katherine gets a chance to a fresh start, a new life. While this is a clear feminist approach, the novella ends tragically with the death of the female protagonist, which in return reminds the readers of Katerina’s weakness as a female in a patriarchal society. If love is primarily used as a motif to wear out Katerina’s attempt to win authority on her body and mind, in the film, Katherine takes her revenge against men using the same ‘weapon’ that doomed her: love. Consequently, she becomes a disease, as Sebastian calls her, proof that she fought back instead of letting romantic love curse her into permanent inferiority. 

Sources:

Michael, Livi. “Nikolai Leskov: Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk: Selected Stories of Nikolai Leskov: Reviewed by Livi Michael.” The Manchester Review, 25 Feb. 2021, www.themanchesterreview.co.uk/?p=11913. 

Sofia Coppola is well known for her “aesthetic” filmmaking. Subtle, but impactful, the storytelling in every single one of her films carries significance in the smallest details.

Just like The Virgin Suicides (1999) and Marie Antoinette (2006), Priscilla (2023) tells the story of feminine identity, emphasizing the female gaze. The movie works as an antonym for Elvis (2022), Baz Luhrmann’s motion picture. Although the two protagonists are part of the same story, their portrayals in the two films are fundamentally different. While in Elvis, the rockstar is portrayed as a good person whose moral values have been disturbed by the greedy world in which he lives, in Priscilla, his portrayal becomes unstable and violent, betraying his abuse of power in his relationship with the much younger Priscilla.

Starting off as a fairytale-like story, the relationship between Elvis and Priscilla quickly becomes questionable. From the moment she moves in with him (even though she is still in high school), Elvis tries to make her integrate into his glamorous world, changing her appearance in the process. For example, he tells her to dye her hair black (Priscilla is a natural redhead) so she could look more like him. Then, he continues to influence her clothing choices, constraining her to a very limited social image that is extremely beneficial for him.

Their story can be broken down into four stages:

STAGE 1: ATTRACTION IS OBLIVION

Elvis and Priscilla’s beginning is overly romanticized, which paves the way for a story that should’ve bloomed differently but that wilts instead. 

Priscilla is just a freshman when she meets Elvis, already a full-grown man, but the attention she is offered by such an influential figure is enough to turn her world upside down. This sheds light on Priscilla’s upbringing as a girl to always seek guidance.

She is forced to mature early for the sake of a man who promises her love but ends up brutalizing her. Elvis’s behaviour is charming in the beginning, although not cautious enough to lack red flags, hence why those are scattered in between his words and actions.

For example, at one of the first parties Priscilla attends, when Elvis invites her to his room but tells her to climb the stairs first and wait for him there so that no one will notice their plan, what Elvis does is to establish the first possessive act, as if saying it is my reputation that matters, not yours, but because you’re a woman, the one who has to be approached to be seduced and loved, not the one who seduces and loves, you have to obey. 

From then on, Priscilla signs a contract of her dehumanization, because she turns into someone who even uses Elvis’s fame to bribe a girl at school to help her cheat on an exam with an invitation to some of Elvis’s parties. Aware of the charm her man has on other women, but still angry that he is not as faithful as he promised, she spirals down into a miserable situation: is she living her life… or his life? 

STAGE 2: HER CONTROL IS IN HIS HANDS

Throughout the movie, Priscilla’s control over her life becomes limited, as she is taken over by Elvis’s monopolistic influence. It leaves the viewer under the impression that her control is in his hands, something to which she subscribes both consciously and unconsciously.

To some extent, at some point, female freedom becomes such a distorted notion that it becomes unbearable to watch Priscilla locked in this golden cage where she has everything she wishes for, yet nothing.

For instance, because Elvis is always surrounded by a group of boys when he accompanies Priscilla to a clothing store, the boys are invited too. In this scene, the presence of Elvis’s cohort seems to be tied to female validation, their opinions on Priscilla’s several outfits becoming verdicts of what she has to buy and wear. 

After 50 minutes into the movie, we can’t help but wonder whether Elvis loves Priscilla or loves the feeling of possessing Priscilla. 

To support the idea that in this movie possessive behaviour is the underlying cause of Priscilla’s discontent, we have compiled a table with several pertinent examples that address the matter, along with our commentary on them. 

EXAMPLE #1

Priscilla wants to work at a boutique, discovering her interest in fashion but Elvis states clearly the terms and conditions of their relationship, ‘It’s either me or a career, baby’ 

COMMENTARY #1

’Possessive’ is the word we’d choose to describe Elvis’s actions. He is a pawn in the game of sex stereotyping. He praises more his success and fame than Priscilla’s happiness. To his mind, there’s nothing more that Priscilla needs, now that she has him. This denotes the fact that even outside of society, inside the confines of a relationship, discrimination persists.  

EXAMPLE #2

When Priscilla wants to get intimate with Elvis, he steers away from that kind of interaction just because she, a woman, in his opinion, can’t be the one to initiate such an act. 

As an explanation, Elvis tells her that having sex is ‘very sacred to him’

COMMENTARY #2

Elvis’s words make us believe he lacks empathy and interpersonal observance. In his world, he seems to be the central pillar, whereas Priscilla is only something lying on it. To Elvis, to initiate the sexual act is sacred but he doesn’t even consider Priscilla’s view on initiating intimacy. He takes it for granted that she always grants his wishes. 

EXAMPLE #3

Upon substance use, Priscilla and Elvis start photographing each other's bare bodies. Even when they use a photographic machine to immortalize this nudity, most of the pictures are of Priscilla’s body, taken by Elvis. 

COMMENTARY #3

This explains very well the dynamics of sexuality among the two sexes. A woman is more sexualized than a man is and Elvis, although overprotective, still falls prey to acknowledging how easy it would be to lose Priscilla. Her femininity is something special to him, yet when Priscilla plays with him and hits him carefully with a pillow, he has an episode in which he talks harshly, ‘Not so rough, you’re not a goddamn man’

MALE VIOLENCE

This is where male violence erupts. To better showcase this dynamic we have gathered some episodes from the movie.

VERBAL VIOLENCE

1. When Priscilla confronts Elvis about the rumoured affair he’s having with another woman, he denies cheating so straightforwardly that it’s obvious something is amiss. This is where verbal violence is transformed into physical violence. 

2. Priscilla despises Elvis’s superiority, which he builds upon reading all sorts of philosophical books. When she confronts him on this matter, underlining the importance of her desires being at least considered, if not properly listened to, he is angry again, saying, ‘I see a madwoman’

3. At their wedding, Priscilla’s mother feels that something is not right between the two lovers, especially because of Elvis’s absent, yet dominant reactions and her daughter’s visible discontent, so she asks her, ‘Are you alright?’ Priscilla is quiet for a second, in which the viewer is reminded of all the violent acts she had to endure, then, with a dead expression on her face, sketches a smile. Throughout the ceremony, her mother tries to approach her several times, but she can’t reach her daughter. 

PHYSICAL VIOLENCE

1. Elvis sees Priscilla’s courage to confront him as a sign of aggressivity, not as a right she has to maintain a healthy relationship. Because Priscilla doesn’t want to fully give up on her freedom and her right to discuss important subjects, Elvis becomes so angry that he starts screaming and scattering her clothes around the room. 

2. Priscilla is sincere, so when her opinion on one of Elvis’s songs is asked, she says she finds something she doesn’t fully enjoy, Elvis has another outbreak of rage and throws a chair in her direction, barely nudging her and destroying a wall. His verbal response to this violent act is dull, ‘Sorry, I’ve got my mama’s temper’

3. Elvis tries to rape his wife at some point in the movie, with the argument, ‘I’m gonna show you how a real man makes love to another woman’, and we’re calling it ‘rape’ because Priscilla is uncomfortable all the time, expresses her fear, dissatisfaction and misery, and even fights Elvis. 

STAGE 3: ALL ENDS WELL IF SHE’S WELL

After she gives birth to their baby and has to face her husband’s ignorance, she moves to LA. The conversation she’s having with his husband inspires empowerment. After all she had to bear, she tells him that he’s not losing her to another man, but to a life of her own. ‘I have to go, if I’ll stay, I’ll never leave’, is the line that remained stuck with us, because it pinpoints the exact ‘rebirth’ of Priscilla. Surprisingly, Elvis’s reaction isn’t outrageous, which might imply that he’s not taking the drugs he used to consume anymore. 

Priscilla has simply had enough, so she steps away from this relationship, which was already put ‘on pause’ by Elvis, and even starts taking karate lessons. Falling in love with her karate teacher, she opens up her heart, learns what romantic love truly means and frees herself from the ‘golden cage’

One thing that is important to mention is the fact that most of the women living in Elvis’s house, from his maid to his grandmother, appreciated Priscilla and gave signs that they, too, had to tolerate Elvis’s temper. The final scene, in which these important women in Priscilla’s life bid her goodbye without asking her why she had decided to leave as if they knew very well why and couldn’t agree more with her decision, gave us chills. 

CONCLUSION

The woman’s condition in this movie was projected through different lenses, presenting both the bitter and sweet parts of living with a man blinded by fame in a time when male fame was a woman’s ticket to genuine validation. 

Poor Things has provoked many reactions ever since it aired in theatres and as unexpected and thoughtful as some of them are, the more complex the interpretations that can be attributed to the film. We can examine the structure of Lanthimos’ film as a sketch inspired by The Divine Comedy, Dante Allighieri’s work. The action of Poor Things captures, at first sight, the experiences that transform Bella Baxter, the protagonist, into a complete human being, ready to learn the morbid secrets of society, similar to the assumed Dante’s character on his way to Paradise. But, of course, this representation is a simplistic one. While Bella is, concretely speaking, this complete, rational being at the end of the film, its actual goal is different – not only to depict the protagonists’ adventures while being subject to numerous maturity tests but also the substratum of these tests: an outline of the current social paradigm, dominated by strongly patriarchal perspectives which influence women’s status and their autonomy in the social and cultural context of the twenty-first century.

What purposefully strikes the audience while watching this film is the painful reality it puts forth through certain themes: the female status in a patriarchal world, sexual awakening, materialism, and the dangers in society. Even more, there seems to be an interesting connection between this film’s dystopian aesthetic frame and Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights, an artwork from the early sixteenth century. The artwork and the film’s narrative meet in Bella Baxter's character (Emma Stone), whose aim is to explore and discover the material world based, at least, at the beginning of the story, on her primal instincts. She portrays what Bosch meant to encapsulate in the left panel of his painting, namely the biblical earthly paradise, which, through fruitful depictions of love and lust, is meant to warn the viewer of pleasure’s capacity to elicit chaos. In the same manner, Bella can be viewed as a Frankenstein-like Eve, who is both surveilled and guided through life by a presupposed God, the traumatized figure of a surgeon, Dr. Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe).

Although director Yorgos Lanthimos is reluctant to “tag” his film as a feminist one, for the sake of our intentions, we will have to dive into this discussion to clarify how this film portrays feminism and what would be a suitable critique of the manner of doing this. From the get-go, the viewers have to be aware of the fact that Poor Thing’s narrative centers on the story of a white woman. She dies, and then she is brought back to life with the mental capacity of an infant. In consequence, she has to re-learn what life is like, to re-discover her adult self, and internalize the social knowledge of the current time. Throughout the film, Bella Baxter is depicted as the heroine who surrenders, not through her resilience, but through her curiosity to know both the beautiful and the horrendous things in the world. However, she does that at the expense of other characters’ social integrity. When Bella is taken to Athens, she receives a “lecture” from Harry Astley, a Black character who wants to teach her about the “reality” of the world. In doing so, she tells her about Alexandria (Africa), a prison where people are victims of war, famine, and poverty. Seeing that Bella is touched by the condition of the people she sees and that she intends to help them, Harry tells her that if she does that, those people will attack and rob her (“Poor Things: A White-Feminist Masterpiece?”) Moreover, Harry adds that these kinds of actions are justified, as those people never knew other than a miserable life, so the possibility of escaping degradation would explain their brutal behaviour toward Bella. The strange thing about Harry’s speech is the visible contradiction he puts forth between white, upper-class people (Bella’s social group) and Black, poor people who turned into animals. Yet another quite alarming matter is that Harry himself is a Black man, speaking of the dangers of underprivileged Black people. Even though Bella’s character has noble intentions as this one in the film, the ones whom she helps are not exactly thriving thanks to her. They are seen as means to her success and growth to the end of the film. When she meets Toinette at Swiney’s brothel, for example, power dynamics are once again reinforced based on race. When Toinette pleasures Bella (as a sign of solidarity between two women sharing the same desire for liberation, but a different race), we never see this act reciprocated on Bella’s part; so whilst she, once again, receives access to yet another option for her success, Toinette becomes only a mediator between Bella and her personal liberation. Perhaps Poor Things does not intend to slightly whisper white feminism in viewers’ ears, but it nevertheless makes them ask questions regarding what they’re looking at (“Yorgos Lanthimos on whether Poor Things is feminist”).

The film transcends the confines of traditional storytelling, evolving into a nuanced exploration of human nature and society's inherent flaws. Through its rich tapestry of symbolism and allegory, the film challenges us to confront the uncomfortable truths lying beneath the surface of our collective consciousness. In doing so, it reaffirms the cinematic industry’s capacity to provoke introspection and ignite meaningful discourse on the complexities of the human condition. Additionally, the film critiques the patriarchal structures limiting women's opportunities and suppressing their voices. Bella, despite her intelligence and capabilities, is initially portrayed as a passive victim of circumstance. However, as the story progresses, she asserts her agency and challenges the oppressive forces around her. The film’s subverting of traditional fairy tale tropes offers a more nuanced portrayal of female characters. Bella is not a damsel in distress waiting to be rescued, but a complex and multifaceted individual with her desires and ambitions.

Written by Talida and Mogo

Julie (2018) este o deconstrucţie a unui personaj plin de exasperare şi lipsit de inhibiţii, care e pus faţӑ în faţӑ cu un joc ce o forţeazӑ sӑ îşi aducӑ aminte cele mai neplӑcute evenimente din viaţa ei.

Acţiunea se petrece pe fundalul unei petreceri organizate de Julie, personajul principal, iar începutul piesei este marcat de recenta despӑrţire prin care aceasta a trecut. Singurӑ, jenatӑ şi marcatӑ de cariera ei eşuatӑ de scriitoare, Julie e un personaj a cӑrui vulnerabilitate transpare puternic pe parcursul piesei, prin intermediul acţiunilor sale şi relaţiei cu celelalte personaje.

Varianta din 2018 este o adaptare a lui August Strindberg, Miss Julie, din 1888. Povestea este adusӑ în contemporan, aducând în atenţie subiecte precum diviziunea de clasӑ, gen şi cea rasialӑ.

Cele trei personaje, Julie, Jean şi Kristina, sunt fundamental diferite. În timp ce Julie provine dintr-un mediu privilegiat, cu o situaţie financiarӑ ce îi oferӑ multiple avantaje, Jean şi Kristina sunt angajaţii tatӑlui ei şi provin dintr-un cadru modest, iar discrepanţele dintre ei se observӑ foarte uşor încӑ de la prima apariţie.

Afectatӑ de relaţia cu tatӑl ei şi bântuitӑ de sinuciderea mamei sale, Julie se refugiazӑ în oameni, alcool şi droguri.

Seara târziu, Kristina pleacӑ, întorcându-se abia dimineaţӑ, iar Jean rӑmâne singur cu Julie. Pe mӑsurӑ ce interacţiunea dintre cei doi se deruleazӑ, disperarea lui Julie se amplificӑ, iar luciditatea lui Jean se disperseazӑ.

Jean şi Julie îşi amintesc de momente din copilӑria lui Julie, care pe ea par sӑ o destabilizeze din ce în ce mai mult, iar pe el sӑ îl îndepӑrteze.

Relaţia lor e marcatӑ de spontaneitate şi de o lipsӑ de reguli şi de moralitate. Toate acestea au un final tragic şi îi supun pe amândoi unui joc care le va releva toate secretele. Pânӑ la sfârşit, cei doi ajung sӑ se observe unul pe celӑlalt în cele mai vulnerabile şi exasperate ipostaze, dezvӑluindu-şi reciproc alte şi alte faţete care îi modeleazӑ şi îi îndepӑrteazӑ tot mai mult de ce au fost.

Piesa poate fi urmӑritӑ pe National Theatre at home.