to begin with, i thought i could refer to something already written, which actually solidified my idea for this blog - because it is, granted, a monothematic essay on a movie, posted at first in my movie-diary. in the community of my fellow diarists, the feminine/feminist POV is tolerated, yet not really noticed; if anything, i do get the occasional advice not to be so tight-assed or something of that order. of course i do also watch movies without regard to their gender-philosophy and i cannot say i'm not appreciated as one of the very few female diarists.
but enough of that. not to let anyone think i didn't put an effort into this first entry: i had to translate the whole piece into english, which doesn't always work so well as if i'm writing in english originally. this is only to apologize upfront for possible obscurities and mistakes. remember: i know i'm leaving out a great deal of the advantages of the movie. i just wrote about what it made me think and feel.
the beguiled
but enough of that. not to let anyone think i didn't put an effort into this first entry: i had to translate the whole piece into english, which doesn't always work so well as if i'm writing in english originally. this is only to apologize upfront for possible obscurities and mistakes. remember: i know i'm leaving out a great deal of the advantages of the movie. i just wrote about what it made me think and feel.
the beguiled
in the u.s. civil war, clint eastwood as yankee soldier john mcburney/mcB is saved from death by a young girl who lives with several other women, among them a slave, in a girls' school. they take him in and nurse his wounds, while being divided about what to do with him in the following. as sexual tension and moral uncertainty proliferate, mcB begins to work his way into the community by telling each woman - head mistress, teacher, pupils alike - what each one of them wants to hear. especially the oaths of true love to the teacher and the inticing encounters with a premature pupil lead him into a trap. when he is found in bed with the teenager even after offering his physical and psychological aid to the head mistress, the severely decent teacher has a fit and involuntarily pushes him down the stairs, re-opening his wounds and braking his leg. in an operation of doubtable necessity (and leaving no doubt of its symbolic character) they amputate his leg. awaking he finds out and starts to rage, insulting all of the women and killing the pet frog of his first helper, the youngest girl. after his leaving the room, the women plot implicitly and without using any definite word to murder him with poisoned mushrooms. too late he announces his engagement to the teacher, who realizes the crime being committed but does not object. when they bury him, the refer to is death as a tragic accident, as due to natural causes, because "of course" the little girl can tell the edible mushrooms from the poisoned ones.
at the beginning, i was only watching with one eye, but then it grew more and more interesting. especially the intricately balanced cohabitation of women, this arduously maintained civilization, the repressive morality and etiquette of the times, which yet by all means can still be considered valid for “decent women” in its principles, and now here comes the clint eastwood character, such a macho, a masher and “real man”. he wouldn’t dream of the possibility that women could have an edge on him, regardless of the fact that he is one and they are many. no – they are a of the weaker sex, so he thinks he can play his society’s games, as if it wasn’t war time, as if it wasn’t an emergency situation. The tom-cat, playing with cats he mistakes for mice.
from their first encounter he manipulates them, there’s no doubt about it – while he is telling his heartrending story, we can see the simple skirmish that led him into his awkward predicament. this may seem excuseable at first, as the women make it very clear that they are only taking care of “the enemy” to refer him to the authorities. but soon he starts toying with them: he flatters the decent girl with soft words and true eyes, the other he compliments with enlightened yankee style, with the third he revels in a lewd flirt, for the fourth he acts as a fatherly friend. There are many women of different ages and different mettles, and true: he assesses them aptly. yet, on his ability of getting the better of each one, he cherishes his illusions – apparently he understands woman very well, but a whole community of women is far out of his grasp, a fact that will lead him to his doom.
the women are excellently characterized, by the way, which surprised me in its extent, concerning such a delicate matter as (female) sexuality and from a male director, no less. at least in my conception of the feminine soul – though that may be distorted – the characters develop in exactly the most credible way. the abandoned women suffer from the lack of men not for such reasons as sustenance, defence of properties or comfort in tragic circumstances. they miss men for the same reason men miss women in war. i cannot tell whether the head mistress’ incestuous relationship with her brother is only a dixie cliché; her severity to hide a longing for caress still seems plausible to me. the only grown up person who appears to have a hold on her fleshly desires is the (pardon the expression) negro, but even she can get a taste for a man in the house.
that these women, who at first only submit to a inevitablitiy, may have humananitarian or functional reasons for their actions, then turn first to wax in the man’s hand in their effort for his attention – the man who has finally arrived without explicitly swing his club to subjugate them – then in the following turn to icy furies after discovering his treachery – al this i find not only plausible, but conceived and narrated brilliantly through and through. Even more brilliant how they find a way coninciding with a completely medical rationale to punish the man, to painfully smash his self-image and at the same time render him nearly defenceless. he didn’t rape them in effect, but he made them look like fools, he undermined their grindingly sustained dignity, he denuded and rejected them at the same time – all this worse than a straight physical attack. they will never again display any infirmity. so now it’s his turn to rave: because women – only women! – have pointed out his boundaries and relegated him to his place. he is useless as a soldier, dependent, and also in many human situations limited to a, say, succumbing position; his ego cannot stand that. he cannot imagine development for the worse, so he becomes improvident. his new attempt to repair the damage – a genuine concilation or just another tactic manoeuver? – is too little, too late… and the female community finds reasons and alibis for his final obliteration. before mauling themselves because of the shortage, the "apple of eris" is removed from their midst: where there's nothing to fight about, there’s peace.
and even though these women violate the rules of any human community, regarded from any perspective, the depiction of their actions is not moralizing. or maybe it appears so only to me, who rates their characterization as comprehensible and without reproach; thus the aversion for this smug man churns me up, the denouement of the story fills me with reluctant admiration and an instinct for preserveration of my kind, that makes all of it look justified.
if realistic depiction of women is reprehensible: jail me.
at the beginning, i was only watching with one eye, but then it grew more and more interesting. especially the intricately balanced cohabitation of women, this arduously maintained civilization, the repressive morality and etiquette of the times, which yet by all means can still be considered valid for “decent women” in its principles, and now here comes the clint eastwood character, such a macho, a masher and “real man”. he wouldn’t dream of the possibility that women could have an edge on him, regardless of the fact that he is one and they are many. no – they are a of the weaker sex, so he thinks he can play his society’s games, as if it wasn’t war time, as if it wasn’t an emergency situation. The tom-cat, playing with cats he mistakes for mice.
from their first encounter he manipulates them, there’s no doubt about it – while he is telling his heartrending story, we can see the simple skirmish that led him into his awkward predicament. this may seem excuseable at first, as the women make it very clear that they are only taking care of “the enemy” to refer him to the authorities. but soon he starts toying with them: he flatters the decent girl with soft words and true eyes, the other he compliments with enlightened yankee style, with the third he revels in a lewd flirt, for the fourth he acts as a fatherly friend. There are many women of different ages and different mettles, and true: he assesses them aptly. yet, on his ability of getting the better of each one, he cherishes his illusions – apparently he understands woman very well, but a whole community of women is far out of his grasp, a fact that will lead him to his doom.
the women are excellently characterized, by the way, which surprised me in its extent, concerning such a delicate matter as (female) sexuality and from a male director, no less. at least in my conception of the feminine soul – though that may be distorted – the characters develop in exactly the most credible way. the abandoned women suffer from the lack of men not for such reasons as sustenance, defence of properties or comfort in tragic circumstances. they miss men for the same reason men miss women in war. i cannot tell whether the head mistress’ incestuous relationship with her brother is only a dixie cliché; her severity to hide a longing for caress still seems plausible to me. the only grown up person who appears to have a hold on her fleshly desires is the (pardon the expression) negro, but even she can get a taste for a man in the house.
that these women, who at first only submit to a inevitablitiy, may have humananitarian or functional reasons for their actions, then turn first to wax in the man’s hand in their effort for his attention – the man who has finally arrived without explicitly swing his club to subjugate them – then in the following turn to icy furies after discovering his treachery – al this i find not only plausible, but conceived and narrated brilliantly through and through. Even more brilliant how they find a way coninciding with a completely medical rationale to punish the man, to painfully smash his self-image and at the same time render him nearly defenceless. he didn’t rape them in effect, but he made them look like fools, he undermined their grindingly sustained dignity, he denuded and rejected them at the same time – all this worse than a straight physical attack. they will never again display any infirmity. so now it’s his turn to rave: because women – only women! – have pointed out his boundaries and relegated him to his place. he is useless as a soldier, dependent, and also in many human situations limited to a, say, succumbing position; his ego cannot stand that. he cannot imagine development for the worse, so he becomes improvident. his new attempt to repair the damage – a genuine concilation or just another tactic manoeuver? – is too little, too late… and the female community finds reasons and alibis for his final obliteration. before mauling themselves because of the shortage, the "apple of eris" is removed from their midst: where there's nothing to fight about, there’s peace.
and even though these women violate the rules of any human community, regarded from any perspective, the depiction of their actions is not moralizing. or maybe it appears so only to me, who rates their characterization as comprehensible and without reproach; thus the aversion for this smug man churns me up, the denouement of the story fills me with reluctant admiration and an instinct for preserveration of my kind, that makes all of it look justified.
if realistic depiction of women is reprehensible: jail me.
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