stickygirl
All the witches
- Joined
- Jan 3, 2012
- Posts
- 22,766
Recently I watched an interview of the director and cast of a French made film, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, when one of them said ‘…you know, the female gaze’ which puzzled me because actually ‘no’, I didn’t know.
There was thread here where an author was asking for help in writing or editing the words he’d written for a female character: was he looking for the female gaze? My curiosity piqued, I dug further and I hope it makes a worthwhile discussion but I apologise that the intro is a bit lengthy.
The sexes have been eternally exasperated in trying to understand each other “You wouldn’t understand” “I’ve given up trying”; Venus v Mars, so perhaps this new question can throw some light on it?
What the female gaze isn’t, is a mirror image of male gaze. What is male gaze? Reference 95% of Hollywoood’s output ever and you’re there: yup it’s the lazy eye-candy that keeps female actors as accessories to the male storyline. Think waitress with revealing bust, putting a couple of beers in front of some A-lister hard man and his handler. She walks away, the eyes follow, so too the comments yadayada.. You cannot simply flip that stereotype to end up with Brad Pitt dropping off martinis while showing his abs to the camera. So that isn’t female gaze.
Unsurprisingly the f-gaze isn’t simple. Certainly there is an element of feminism ( equal job, equal pay, equal opportunities ) and there also is a rejection of objectification ( ornaments with tits ). To get closer to its definition we need to think about the object or subject of the gaze and scrutinize who does the gazing.
The objectifying male gaze is not unique: there’s a medical gaze (doctor/patient), CCTV observation, even Zoom meetings, so this isn’t about male-bashing or chauvinism; rather it is an alternative, but one which seldom has chance to flourish. The dynamic of gaze is not lost on portrait painters who provide us with eyes to follow us around the room. That asymmetric objectification is rejected in the work of Helen Delmaire, the artist commission the produce the portraits in the film Portrait of Lady on Fire. She obscures the sitter’s eyes to rob us the opportunity of a free look.
We get closer to an answer by looking at the works of female directors and script writers, who strive to engage us, the audience, empathetically. Instead of a collective audience, we find ourselves as individuals, sharing the emotions set out for us.
It is easy to dismiss the objectification we see in action male-centric films as stereotype but consider how pervasive it has become: we anticipate the formula before we even buy the cinema ticket. We are all so conditioned by its repetition that we seldom question it and even welcome its familiarity “I love Mission Impossible films – they’re good fun”. We enjoy watching people being killed on screen, we eat our popcorn and we talk about something completely different as we leave the theatre.
The films I prefer, and since I’m addressing creative writers I know I am not alone, are the ones that stay with me for days. We find ourselves mulling over scenes and are frustrated that they are not easily discussed “… then the whole building collapsed under him as he jumped” can elicit a brief “yea, that was awesome!” but if we wish to discuss “…when do you think they knew they were in love?” it requires not just time, but interpretation and an emotional memory of the scene.
My examples are necessarily provocative but I do not intend the men to either roll their eyes or splutter over their coffee “…but that’s not me! I think about films – I love those films!” Exactly: empathy is not exclusive to one sex or another, but one thing is certain, there is not enough of it.
What do you think? This has been bugging me so I hope now if bugs you. The bug-baton is handed on
There was thread here where an author was asking for help in writing or editing the words he’d written for a female character: was he looking for the female gaze? My curiosity piqued, I dug further and I hope it makes a worthwhile discussion but I apologise that the intro is a bit lengthy.

The sexes have been eternally exasperated in trying to understand each other “You wouldn’t understand” “I’ve given up trying”; Venus v Mars, so perhaps this new question can throw some light on it?
What the female gaze isn’t, is a mirror image of male gaze. What is male gaze? Reference 95% of Hollywoood’s output ever and you’re there: yup it’s the lazy eye-candy that keeps female actors as accessories to the male storyline. Think waitress with revealing bust, putting a couple of beers in front of some A-lister hard man and his handler. She walks away, the eyes follow, so too the comments yadayada.. You cannot simply flip that stereotype to end up with Brad Pitt dropping off martinis while showing his abs to the camera. So that isn’t female gaze.
Unsurprisingly the f-gaze isn’t simple. Certainly there is an element of feminism ( equal job, equal pay, equal opportunities ) and there also is a rejection of objectification ( ornaments with tits ). To get closer to its definition we need to think about the object or subject of the gaze and scrutinize who does the gazing.
The objectifying male gaze is not unique: there’s a medical gaze (doctor/patient), CCTV observation, even Zoom meetings, so this isn’t about male-bashing or chauvinism; rather it is an alternative, but one which seldom has chance to flourish. The dynamic of gaze is not lost on portrait painters who provide us with eyes to follow us around the room. That asymmetric objectification is rejected in the work of Helen Delmaire, the artist commission the produce the portraits in the film Portrait of Lady on Fire. She obscures the sitter’s eyes to rob us the opportunity of a free look.
We get closer to an answer by looking at the works of female directors and script writers, who strive to engage us, the audience, empathetically. Instead of a collective audience, we find ourselves as individuals, sharing the emotions set out for us.
It is easy to dismiss the objectification we see in action male-centric films as stereotype but consider how pervasive it has become: we anticipate the formula before we even buy the cinema ticket. We are all so conditioned by its repetition that we seldom question it and even welcome its familiarity “I love Mission Impossible films – they’re good fun”. We enjoy watching people being killed on screen, we eat our popcorn and we talk about something completely different as we leave the theatre.
The films I prefer, and since I’m addressing creative writers I know I am not alone, are the ones that stay with me for days. We find ourselves mulling over scenes and are frustrated that they are not easily discussed “… then the whole building collapsed under him as he jumped” can elicit a brief “yea, that was awesome!” but if we wish to discuss “…when do you think they knew they were in love?” it requires not just time, but interpretation and an emotional memory of the scene.
My examples are necessarily provocative but I do not intend the men to either roll their eyes or splutter over their coffee “…but that’s not me! I think about films – I love those films!” Exactly: empathy is not exclusive to one sex or another, but one thing is certain, there is not enough of it.
What do you think? This has been bugging me so I hope now if bugs you. The bug-baton is handed on