It probably doesn’t come as a surprise to most feminists that mainstream Hollywood movies promote a fair amount of sexism, misogyny, and nasty stereotypes of both women and men, just as I’m sure it doesn’t come as a surprise to most people of color that the same pop-culture vehicle promotes racism and vicious racial stereotypes. The 2008 movie Taken, with Liam Neeson and Maggie Grace, is no exception; it’s both sexist and racist. But the specific misogyny in this movie has led me to a surprising epiphany as to how I, and perhaps other women, have allowed sexist dogma to take control of my body.
As the camera slowly pans out from Neeson holding his daughter, Grace, in her white negligee, the golden sheeted round bed, the dead non-specific-rich-Middle-Eastern-man on the floor, I was already contemplating a post-movie cigarette and the rare, “well that was a waste of time” conversation with my husband. But the credits failed to roll. The next scene shows Grace bumbling like a deer on new legs to her mother with the same smile plastered on her face as when she boarded the plane to France one hour and thirty minutes earlier--before she was sold to the sex-slave trade and nearly raped by said non-specific-rich-Middle-Eastern-man. But again, the credits failed to roll. In the final scene, Neeson gives a surprise to Grace: a music lesson with her favorite pop singer. Smiles a la carte. Problems solved. Credits roll.
My feminist verbosity was muted. Hollywood had truly outdone itself. Where was the trauma? Where was the scarring? Then, three post-movie smokes later, it hit me: there was no trauma for Grace to contend with because she had not been raped. Her body, though stolen and sold, had never been physically penetrated so, of course, she was fine.
Never before had I seen such a dramatic portrayal of the stereotype—of one of the foundations of misogyny—that the female body is a holy sacred vessel. From this ideal comes the conundrum that women still face today. We are either whores or virgins. There is no in between. In Christian mythology, Mary, Mother of God, must maintain her virginity in order to remain holy because the female body once entered physically becomes unclean, unholy. This ideal continues to affect women worldwide, from the legally mandated physical covering of the body by some Islamic groups in the Middle East, to female genital mutilation in Africa, to good old fashioned sexual abuse, rape, and domestic violence epidemics here in the States. I wonder if the myth of the female body and the catch 22 it creates is the reason that Hollywood, and we as consumers of Hollywood, are so fascinated with stories of female rape and abduction? Is our collective unconscious still attempting to understand and solve the whore/ virgin conundrum? Perhaps.
And, perhaps, there is nothing revolutionary about my discovery, but it led me to a more tangible and, hopefully, more useful question: are we, as women, unconsciously allowing ourselves to be more traumatized by sexual abuse and violence than necessary because we have bought into this idea that our bodies are sacred vessels? Do we believe ourselves to be either whores or virgins?
I do not speak accusingly; I speak from experience. I am a member of the not-so-elite statistic: “1 in 6 women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime.”[i] I know that rape, and all forms of sexual abuse, are extremely traumatic. I am not suggesting that rape is “no big deal,” and that we should all just “get over it.” On the contrary, I wonder if women could recover from the trauma of rape more quickly and, at the sake of sounding detached, more efficiently, if we realized that this misogynistic, illogical, and unreasonable stereotype/archetype is ingrained in our subconscious.
Taken made it clear to me that I have been hanging on to something intangible for too long. I have been clinging to the idea that something has been taken from me that I can never get back. But that is the virgin/ whore ideal speaking. I was a virgin. Then I became a whore, and my life was over. I have been living as if my body constitutes my entire identity, while simultaneously fighting this perception as a feminist. I have been viewing my experiences as if my body had not been violated, had I been Grace, I would not have any trauma to deal with.
The reality of what happened to me, and to many other women, is not sexual or even physical. What happened to me was about power. Rape is an abuse of power; it is the physical representation of the male power that exists in our society. That is what has lingered. That is what hurts. My body is just my body, and it has healed. What I am left to deal with is my position as a woman in a society where men have power over me. The root of this problem lies in unequal power dynamics, not sexuality. That is why Taken is so shockingly unrealistic. Everything is taken from Grace, except her virginity. Had it not been for her father’s divine intervention, she might have lost it all…but thanks to Grace, and the movie Taken, I have come to realize that I haven’t lost anything, except, perhaps, time.
[i] http://www.rainn.org/statistics
Thank you for this article. I watched Taken last week (I prefer DVR to theaters). It had decent action, but was, as you pointed out, extremely unrealistic and cliche. As it neared the end, something extra was bugging me, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. I think you've helped me figure it out: it was the whole "whew, just in time!" feel at the end. As though if he had saved her from the sheik's palace, having been his sex slave for a day, viewers would not have been able to deal with the ending. Never mind that she would have been saved from an entire lifetime of slavery or worse, she would be totally ruined because her virginity would be gone. Or, suppose she hadn't been a virgin, and Liam Neeson merely saved her from the trailer full of drugged-up 'non-virgin' victims. Would that not have been good enough to please the movie-going audience?
ReplyDeleteOn that subject, what the hell happened to all of those girls? What about the one in the hotel? These girls are already "spoiled", so there's no point in saving them I suppose. The film degenerated into nothing more than a quest to preserve female purity. That's the thing that bugs me about it. I thought we as a culture had moved beyond that (just a little tiny bit at least).
As for your musing, "I wonder if women could recover from the trauma of rape more quickly and, at the sake of sounding detached, more efficiently, if we realized that this misogynistic, illogical, and unreasonable stereotype/archetype is ingrained in our subconscious." I've asked the same question. We obviously have female worth and purity inextricably linked in our subconscious. Otherwise, why would having sex for the first time be referred to as "losing" something? Suppose it were considered gaining something, like womanhood for example (sorry to parallel men's gaining manhood, I couldn't think of anything better). Then, would rape still include the feeling that something was taken away? If sex itself weren't considered impure and degrading for women, would rape still include such feelings of shame? Put simply, could the psychological trauma of rape be lessened if we as a society could get over the whole virgin/whore thing? Obviously rape would still result in trauma, but maybe, as you suggest, recovery might be easier or faster.
I'm so glad that you got something positive from the film. I'm afraid that most viewers only gained a resolve never to let their teenage daughters travel. Anywhere. Ever. I am more interested in how I can, if I have a daughter, manage to convince her that her worth as a person is not precariously balanced on her virginity. Thanks again for sharing your thoughts and experiences.
I too thought the movie was sexist -- I was looking for an opinion on that topic and found your blog.
ReplyDeleteHere are some more points: I found the daughter's behavior spoiled and childish for the most part. Women throughout were portrayed as shallow stereotypes. The "best friend" gets the classic come-uppance for being a sexually liberated teen girl -- she dies. Of course, both girls act stupidly in the first place. There is not a single opportunity in the film for a woman to act in her own defense, use her wits or free herself (it wasn't clear to me if his daughter used his advice when she is first kidnapped).
The worst moment was when Liam Neeson's character shoots the corrupt French policeman's wife in the arm -- "It's only a flesh wound" -- to get him to do what he wants. That scene right there could be deconstructed extensively (the wife/mother/homemaker lovingly serving dinner, oblivious to her husband's seedy world -- the husband revealing his true colors by telling her to "shut up"). That shooting was not only unnecessary to the plot, it shows the concept of women as chattel to pervade even the good guy's world.
A wholly disturbing film.
Thank you so much for your comments. Your points are well taken. If I may piggy back on your ideas: I wonder if, as you say, "If sex itself weren't considered impure and degrading for women" would we as a society have a healthier view of sex in general? I know that the virgin/ whore conundrum affects men too. I have a few male friends that I tease for having "The Virgin Mary Complex" because they end up having relationship troubles because they want a woman who is sexy and fun and, how shall I say, um experienced, yet when it comes down to relationships they want a virginal creature, not in the strict sense, but it is as if these conflicting images of women are ingrained in their psyches too. This problem for men has also been portrayed in movies. Men who have wives, but see prostitutes on a regular basis because they don't think their wives "should do those kinds of things." How are men and women supposed to function on a healthy sexual basis with all this baggage?
ReplyDeleteAnd, perhaps a more important discussion, how do we spare your/ my/ all of our daughters, and sons, from these images? My parents did a wonderful job of raising us without society's baggage, but it still seeped in. Socialization into mainstream society seems inevitable, so I cannot help but wonder if it is the social elements that we must change. The movies, TV, news, education...Is this what we must change? And if we do, will children fare better than I have? I wonder.
I really agree with this post, and I couldn't have illustrated the point better than using the "virgin/whore" paradigm that is so present in modern art and society. One thing I would like to add--if we look deeper into these archatypes we see that the virgin is typically young and inexperienced whereas the whore is an experienced and wordly woman, knowledgeable in ways the virgin isn't. This, to me, is why it becomes so preferable to directors and writers to keep the young victims in the "virgin" sphere. Knowledge is one of the most feared things in women, be it sexual knowledge, intelligenct, wit or some other wordly endeavor. In coming of age stories that involve boys, the subjects are encouraged to come out of their youth and sexually explore. At the end, when the subject has typically lost his virginity, the even is celebrated. He is now a "man" whose future sexual experiences will serve to make him better at sex and ultimately be able to please the woman he ends up with to a greater degree. Young women, on the other hand, are encouraged to view sex as violent and just plain unpleasant. Perhaps, less sexual knowledge will make it more likely that they will be pleased with the one man they end up with, their husband? Please. The "whore" is usually a fine woman, who knows herself and her body. And, unfortunately, that's just too much for some men to take.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for the article and for all the comments. I just finished watching this movie and was left with a horrible feeling. I felt misunderstood. My mother and my sister had watched it before me and (uncritically) liked it. I was thinking of how to structure my thoughts in order to put all my arguments forward in a straight-forward and confident way against the sexist racist stereotypical representations in this movie...and I looked for some support on google and found you! Thank you so much.
ReplyDeleteI am so thrilled that women have been able to find this essay online, and that it has provided some sense of support for those of you who were disturbed/ frustrated by this movie.
ReplyDeleteI wish people would think more about the movies that they watch. Especially women, who are so often poorly represented in film. And I hope by having these discussions, we can encourage others to think more critically.
How about the security expert dad teaching his daughter self-defence and street smarts from childhood? It could have been interesting. Instead, the best advice Bryan could give Kim was to hide under a bed and wait for her inevitable abduction. She would then have to wait some more for help to come. It is her punishment for daring to venture out in the first place. Kim is not an individual, rather a piece of property that merely changes hands throughout the film.
ReplyDelete