Women-Games-Cinema

It has most definitely been a while, however I feel that it is an important time to update this blog with something that has been popping up in my Twitter feed and mail box constantly as of late. More and more, the issue of gender and violence, most specifically sexualised violence, has been a topic of note in both the film and gaming community, and it's important to look about the effects of both of these in terms of wider representations to the (mostly) male audience that consumes these texts.

Therefore, this week's texts will encompass both the medium of film and game. Of course, it is problematic in any instance for a male to try to write about the female experience. Having had neither a womb nor the range of male interactions that any woman has, it is difficult to articulate accurately the 'right' reaction to this. However, I feel that it is possible to objectively examine this area with broad analysis.

This week's texts are -

Prometheus (2012, Fox Studios)

Tomb Raider (2013, Eidos Interactive)

It is firstly worth noting that, should one wish to search, the simplistic 'Tomb Raider' Google image hunt brings up a bevvy of buxom positions, several featuring Mrs. Angelina PittJolie, and many a polygonal delight of chestbursting proportions. Such sexuality has plagued Tomb Raider's game design since inception, and it is impossible to read any title, even a 'reboot', without considering these as a matter of course.

Both of these narratives actually draw from the 'Silence of the Lambs / Prime Suspect' field of story telling, featuring, as Nicola Rehling describes,

tough female heroines with whom we are encouraged to identify [that] considerably complicates the rigid schema put forward by Laura Mulvey in her foundational essay “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema” (1975), whereby the cinematic apparatus engineers identification with the sadistic, masterful male gaze. At the same time, the demonization of non-phallic masculinity and/or sexual deviance that this involves inevitably works to shore up the values of normative, heterosexual masculinity, since identity is always constructed through
“the relations to what it is not, to precisely what it lacks, to what has been called its constitutive outside” (Hall 4).

In essence, both of these texts are interesting BECAUSE of the fact that the protagonists are female. In her seminal work, Hardboiled and High Heeled, Linda Mizejewski points to the fact that

these films focus on how these women [...] are pictured and the fantasies these those pictures induce.

We (men) are drawn to these films because they feature the tough, feisty, sexually attractive role of a female in power.

This is complicated somewhat in Prometheus not simply because of the [spoiler] 'caesearean' scene (not even Ridley Scott can call it an 'abortion' yet) but because of the fact that Noomi Rapace's Elizabeth Shaw does indeed conform to the stereotypes of the female role despite Scott's own desire to not have her be limited to it. Hence, we see her engage in sexual activity, allowing her to be clotheless for a portion of the film. We see her stripped somewhat of her attire later, after said 'caesearean' scene, so that she can scamper around the ship (a la Weaver in Alien) in her underwear, and we see her constantly overpowered due to her own feminine abilities. I'm not actually admonishing the latter - it is important to recognise differences in the genders, as I will hopefully demonstrate when moving on to Tomb Raider - but it is important to note.

Is Shaw as revolutionary as Weaver's Ripley? Hardly. However, despite these very male concepts of her, she does at least function beyond the desire to have someone 'to be looked at'. In fact, it's very likely that Scott chose Rapace due to her previous career in the Dragon Tattoo films, perhaps suggesting an attitude of 'look at me at your peril'.

Prometheus does, despite its many problems, attempt to make Shaw a 'strong' (an odious term) character, one that can be admired despite, or perhaps, because of her flaws. While not as symbolic or fascinating as Ripley, Shaw does indeed have faults, quirks, and is developed enough to seem 'real'. Yet, once more this is problematised because the entire creative team behind the film is male, and as such, are presenting a male view of femininity. Combined with Ridley Scott's focus on visual pleasure, often at the expense of narrative pleasure, there is a beauty to the film, and as such the female form.

Yet, as Teresa De Lauretis points out in 'Rethinking Women's Cinema', there is a strange paradox. We often think of a 'feminist' or 'forward thinking' text as something that has been 'de-d' - deaestheticised, desexualised etc. And as Lauretis makes clear, this is a destructive paradox. Surely females need to retain those things that mark them out as female - and of course, a particular form of sexuality must be present (although this is likely not the time or place to pile queer theory on top of an already thorny subject.) Shaw, despite her cavorting in underwear, appears to be the closest thing, in post-Bridesmaids world, to a rounded female character.

Which brings us to Tomb Raider - already having drawn ire and scorn from the internet. Of course, the game is not out until the start of 2013, so it is difficult, and perhaps unfair, to pre-judge the title (as the BBFC make oh-so-clear, CONTEXT IS KEY) as 'problematic'. Yet, the producers and PR behind the game have not exactly made the game seem anything other than problematic.

Of course, we speak of the sexual assault scene - one that Crystal Dynamics have renamed and reconfigured several times, from 'attempted rape' to saying

 Sexual assault of any kind is categorically not a theme that we cover in this game.

Below is the troublesome clip that began all this.

If one were to watch the clip, specifically around the 2:21 mark, it's fairly clear that the physical contact (lingered on by the camera) is sexualised.

In an already famous interview, Ron Rosenberg claimed that,

When people play Lara, they don't really project themselves into the character. They're more like 'I want to protect her.' There's this sort of dynamic of 'I'm going to this adventure with her and trying to protect her.

Of course, this misses, for instance, the female gamers who may, heaven forbid, have actually identified with Lara. Like Shaw in Prometheus, Croft is once again in a troublesome place - one where she is 'to-be-looked-at' (thanks, Mulvey) but also is trying to represent a 'realistic' form of what it is to be a female. One doesn't need to try too hard to imagine the scripting of this sequence - Lara becomes 'tough', a 'killer'. She's a woman, so she needs a compelling reason to become this. Therefore, have her be sexually assaulted, and voila, instant justification.

Except, not really.

When was the last time sexual assault to a man was given as a justifiable reason for their behaviour in either film or game? Would Marcus Fenix be 'more relatable' where he abused in the past? It's clearly wrong to assume that this is in any way an excusable account for the actions. Shaw begins to look more and more desirable as a character at this point.

I am certainly not for saying that sexual assault is 'too touchy' a subject to consider in games. However, when it stands to become the very element that defines a long-established female role model, one who was more (but let's not remember how she was initially conceived) than a sex object, it is simply wrong.


So where does this leave me? To be honest, I'm not sure. Female characters, created by men are sadly only ever going to form a particular representation of the female experience. But, of course, that's the issue with all media. What males in the media must consider, however, is years of privilege, and of course, the fact that there is now a wave of females, too large for them to ignore, who are simply demanding that their experiences and desires should be covered. By all means, keep the visual pleasure intact - 'de-feminising' texts can be as dangerous as overly sexualising them - but surely, surely there must be a better way.

I'm very interested to head any comments, or changes people should wish to suggest to this article. I'm torn by even the fact that writing about it, as a male, is perhaps as problematic as both the texts covered. Any suggestions or ideas would be welcome here.