Rosillo, Tatiana Professor Nelson Film and Other Media Final Paper 2
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Rosillo 1 Rosillo, Tatiana Professor Nelson Film and Other Media Final Paper 2 May 2018 A Stiletto in the Hand Is Worth a Gun in the Purse Mainstream American action films require the audience to empathize with a protagonist as he (and very seldom she) is put through a series of intense fight sequences and tension-filled personal exchanges to complete any manner of high stakes mission. The spy film is an exemplary subset of this genre, employing the formula in an interesting, if somewhat statist, romp through action genre conventions. Overwhelmingly, men have been the main creators, consumers, and centers of spy narratives. These narratives tend to leave women out on the margins, restricting female characters and excluding female creators and consumers. Recently, there has been a shift towards women playing larger roles and even leading spy films. However, this progress remains hampered by the lack of opportunities afforded to female directors and female driven scripts. The film Atomic Blonde (2017) exhibits this complex step in the move towards female- centric spy films with Charlize Theron as the titular blonde, Lorraine Broughton, with male director David Leitch at the helm. What warrants critical attention in Rosillo 2 Atomic Blonde are the modes of weaponized femininity constructed by Lorraine in her wardrobe and mannerisms; Lorraine cultivates an impenetrable, unflappable traditionally feminine aesthetic and uses this aesthetic as armor, weapon, and trap. Using these modes of weaponized femininity, the film examines the constructed nature of femininity and weaponized femininity’s interventions in those expectations. In order to understand the progress Atomic Blonde is attempting, one must examine the pre-established conventions of spy genres with regards to male and female roles. Within the typical action spy film lies a heavy reliance on a hyper- masculine fantasy. The male characters in such spy films are the actors in missions, and the female characters are either sexual objects to be won or sexual objects who momentarily confound the male hero or die for the sake of male angst. Miranda J. Brady briefly examines this hyper-sexualized fantasy in regards to James Bond, explaining the sexual politics as “promiscuity” (Brady 112). James Bond, both the franchise and the character, engages male fantasies of danger, violence, and sexuality all in the service of the “greater good” and for queen and country. Meanwhile, women in these films are relegated to the femme fatale role or that of homemaker. The focus of Brady’s essay is that of the American television show Alias (2001-06) and the exploration of that same dynamic from a female character’s focalization. This example of the female spy does not move towards Rosillo 3 more diverse representation for women, as it cements the “role of the contemporary female secret agent to conflate traditional family values … with nationalism, modernism, and sexuality” (112). This perspective contextualized the interventions in the formula Atomic Blonde attempts. Not only does the film shift the focal character from the male avatar of the masculine fantasy to that of a female protagonist, but it also allows her to weaponize femininity without succumbing to the patriarchy in any way. Lorraine sets herself apart from other female spy leads by operating under her own set of rules, “trust[ing] no one,” and taking a female lover (Atomic). These factors simply lay the groundwork for the film’s reconstruction of the female spy. The first time the audience is introduced to Lorraine, she is stripped completely bare of the modes of weaponized femininity she will later construct. This scene establishes the vulnerable human being beneath the complex amalgamation of weaponized femininity with which she arms herself with throughout the film. The scene opens with a shot of her face emerging from an ice bath, followed immediately by her bruised shoulders; this shot quickly subverts the expectation of a voyeuristic look at Lorraine’s body in the bath by exposing physical trauma on her body. This shot is emphasized by two shots of her severely bruised back: one spotlights her emergence from above, while the second focuses straight on her bruised back at bath level. These shots emphasize Lorraine’s basic Rosillo 4 humanity and work to establish Lorraine as a person, not a sexual object. Though Lorraine is introduced without her clothes, the framing of these shots does not seem sexual. Tight close-ups on Lorraine’s face and shoulders give the audience no room to idealize her form, but confronts them with the stark reality of dark bruises marring her skin. The emphasis is not on Lorraine’s body in an idealizing, objectifying manner, but drives home the damage done to her fragile body. The following shots of her openly traumatized face are followed by her curling into herself and crossing her arms around herself in a self-soothing embrace. She then buries her face in her arms and effectively shields herself from the audience by turning inward. This scene “engages” the audience to form an empathetic bond with her while knowing nothing about her character (Plantinga 10). This “engagement” is reminiscent of the concept discussed in Carl Plantinga’s Moving Viewers: American Film and the Spectators Experience, in which Carl discusses the affect theory and the importance of a protagonist in the viewing relationship. The level of engagement demanded by these first few scenes with Lorraine establish Lorraine as a person to be empathized with, not merely an object to ogled. These shots communicate that this is a woman who has just been through a grueling experience and has taken solace in the admittedly frigid looking bath. Lorraine emerges from the bath a cold, battered, enduring woman, and the subsequent close-ups on her bruised face and bedraggled hair from the perspective Rosillo 5 of the mirror force the audience into Lorraine’s perspective. The audience is confronted with the bare bones of Lorraine’s personality in this shot and is therefore predisposed to not only believe Lorraine’s narration later in the film, but completely accept her as the protagonist. Directly following her vulnerability after leaving the numbing bath, the next shot establishes the first mode of weaponized femininity: Lorraine’s application of camouflaged feminine armor. After a quick shot of her calmly taking a drag from a cigarette, the camera does a tight close-up of Lorraine’s hands as she places a gun inside a sleek black handbag (Atomic). Her wardrobe in this scene acts as the first hint at Lorraine’s weaponized femininity in the film. By concealing a handgun, one of the more typical symbols of spy and action films in American cinematic language, within a purse, the film establishes a unique difference from many other spy films. The previous scene established an empathetic bond with the audience on a human level, but this scene makes the distinction of Lorraine utilizing her feminine role to her advantage. Following the shot of the handbag and handgun, Leitch uses a full body shot to capture Lorraine smoothly putting on her white vinyl trench coat to once again make this distinction. Lorraine’s coat functions as a type of armor, not only against the cold but also against detection and scrutiny. While she puts the coat on in the background of the frame, the foreground is composed of empty space and the corner of the bed separates Lorraine from the Rosillo 6 audience in the midground. Lorraine slowly constructs distance between herself and the outside world, but her armor and weapons are not those of the traditional secret agent. She does not hide her true self from the audience with a fedora and discrete suit or indiscrete tuxedo, but with vinyl trench coats and large rose-tinted sunglasses. This moment is the first step towards establishing Lorraine’s weaponized femininity in the film by establishing her feminine armor. Strutting around London in a shiny coat while carrying a firearm in a small purse on knee- high, stiletto heeled boots allows the audience to understand how Lorraine’s defenses work. This scene forms the audience’s understanding of the defensive mode of weaponized femininity and hints at how the second might be applicable. Not long after this scene the audience is introduced to the offensive mode of weaponized femininity. The dichotomy between her projected femininity and her desire to blend in feature in the next two scenes. As the film cycles back to the assignment of the mission she is being debriefed on at the beginning of the film, Lorraine features in more masculine and less stark clothing. When K and C brief her on her upcoming mission to Berlin, she wears a traditional film noir style trench coat with a grey pantsuit beneath it. This outfit projects an air of subtle deference to her male superiors and seems to fit in with the traditional costumes of spies attempting to blend in. Once she arrives in Berlin, that attitude changes. She walks off the plane in red high heels in an impractical-looking pinstripe trouser and Rosillo 7 bustier over a white button-up shirt, an outfit which projects overtly feminized confidence. Additionally, the inclusion of the bustier, a garment typically worn underneath outerwear signals the emergence of the specifically feminine aspect of her character. Bustiers are specifically related to women’s undergarments and as such are typically sexualized. Here Lorraine wears it at the forefront of her clothing choices. Lorraine walks into Berlin with purpose and a carefully cultivated projection of powerful femininity. Once again hidden behind the rose- tinted sunglasses, she calmly assesses the situation with Bremovych’s henchmen and identifies the places they have hidden weapons.