“But ‘Barbie’ at least captured a generic audience in raising feminist awareness. What did ‘Poor Things’ do? Objectify and sexualize women?”
My friend ended her debate with me about the latest movie “Poor Things” (2023) on this note, referencing another recent movie, “Barbie” (2023) that has spearheaded a round of feminist discussions on Hollywood productions in China with its PR campaign targeting women audience. Acclaims for the movie also mostly surround its feminist theme. I was immediately disgusted by her appreciation of this movie which was, to me, a “fake feminist” representation. Yet, finding her critique on other Hollywood movies common within the Chinese feminist circle on social media, I began to ponder how these commentary on Western movies informs feminism.
It is astounding to me that in China, a country where people cannot be directly involved in politics, the discussions on “Barbie” are equally, if not more, politicized. Chinese men complain online that it is “radical” and “unnecessary” to depict such “bossy” women, while many feminists in China feel encouraged to watch this movie mostly due to its “feminist quality”. On China’s biggest movie review platform, Douban, more than 90% of popular reviews laud the movie for its feminist awakening.
There is a difference between such political imposition on the Chinese and American audience, though. Political discussions on “Barbie” in the U.S. focus on the representation of bigger political parties, and on a personal level the movie’s influence is mostly manifest through lighthearted jokes and fashion. On the other hand, comments on the political influence of “Barbie” in China have concerned women’s growth and their anger towards men on a personal level. It also surprised me that my friend would bring up “Barbie” in our discussion of the much later “Poor Things.” What are Chinese feminists looking for in representations of gender?
The plot of “Barbie” is simple: Women rule the world, then men realize the power of patriarchy and take over the world, and finally women take back the world. The conflict of the movie is the binary between men and women. In addition, in the movie, to be a woman, one needs to possess traditionally feminine qualities: wearing high heels, being slim, and putting on makeup every day.The only non-binary person in this movie, Weird Barbie, is portrayed as intimidating and unpopular (although helpful). I thought that the idea of “Barbie” is similar to the central call of second-wave feminism in the Western narrative: women’s independence in economic and social abilities should rival, if not exceed, that of men’s.
However, the plot of the movie, as the call of second-wave feminism, is an idealistic portrayal of women’s and non-binary people’s struggles. In reality, women do not rule the world as Barbies do: they do not all own the resources to live in luxurious houses; they do not dominate the means of production in society; they do not need to all conform to the Western-centric beauty standard that Barbies represent. In fact, the movie rarely touches on how gender is built through not only personal power, but the power of social hegemony: our education, politics, and history have long defined the inferiority of women through patriarchy. Think of how many times you have addressed a person by “she/her” solely based on their feminine presence, how your middle-school self naturally asked your best girl friend “are you having a crush on some guy?”
Searching “Poor Things” on one of the most popular social media platforms, especially among women users, in China, I found an overwhelming majority of negative reviews on the movie for its lack of authenticity in portraying a woman’s body. Most criticized it for being a “feminist movie that attempts to realize women’s liberation through serving as a prostitute.” Viewers also nitpicked the movie for not portraying menstruation and accidental pregnancy.
“Poor Things” is an adaptation of Poor Things based on the long celebrated sci-fi novel Frankenstein. Godwin Baxter, an eccentric scientist, injects new life into the body of a drowned woman Bella Baxter by inserting the brain of a baby. The movie is mainly criticized due to its excessive sex scenes showing Bella masturbating and desiring sexual intercourse with men. The movie does sacrifice other aspects of Bella’s exploration in self-identity by overemphasizing her sexual desires, seemingly to win the eyeballs of a modern audience waiting to consume fast excitement. However, I would also invite critics to think of the “why” instead of the “how” of the narrative method in “Poor Things”. Why is Bella presented in such a way heavily relying on sex?
Bella is seeking their identity, their place in the world, through a series of social interactions: their romantic relationship with Archibald McCandless, their involvement in various European social circles, and, most importantly, their relationship with Godwin Baxter that’s akin to one between a parent and a child. All these social relationships have one thing in common: controlled by men. The imprints of history on one’s body cannot be denied – as soon as Bella finds the convenience and importance of having sex, their joy in sex has to heighten to exploit the resources in this sex-centered society. Many Chinese audience members criticize Bella’s frequent relishment in sex as a defamation of the female body – being indulgent in sex is what a man would do, they claim. Nevertheless, I find beauty in Bella’s attempt at connecting with their body. If masturbation provides joy, then one should cherish it. Restricting that pleasure to men is merely a reinforcement of the patriarchal castration.
Another less noticed commercial film entangled in the discussions of feminism is “Love Lies Bleeding” (2024) starring Kristen Stewart and Katy M. O’Brien. On Douban, again, this movie receives an extremely low score of 6.5/10 with comments attacking the “unrealisticness” of women’s success toward the end, and the “excessive violence” that is usually associated with men.
A lesbian movie, this film breaks the traditional formula of aesthetics in the LGBTQ+ genre, but is filled with violence and sweat. It doesn’t shy from demonstrating the extreme sexual symbolism illustrating the scope of women’s desire: the red filter, the pink boxing gloves, and waves of gunshots.
Many critique “Love Lies Bleeding” specifically on its oversimplified ending: Lou and Jackie escaped from Dad’s control because Jackie grew into a giant with her excessive hormones and love for Lou. It might seem that feminist power is turned into the hilarious, unrealistic monster that scares men away. However, after the shocking ending scene, many may have ignored the equally hilarious prologue that follows the ending: Lou and Jackie realized that they still had to bury Daisy alive, a victim of the murder directed by Lou’s father, so that she wouldn’t be able to spread the story of Lou and Jackie’s murder of their father. Their timidly relieved smile pokes open the idealistic feminism many advocate for: women’s power cannot be singularly established in a world long dominated by the patriarchy. Instead of women’s complete defeat against men like what happened in “Barbie”, “Love Lies Bleeding” illustrates the liminal space women can occupy in society.
In the Chinese feminist critique on Hollywood movies, I see a castration on the women’s body. “Barbie” received praise for its feminist empowerment as it does not touch on women’s sexuality with Barbie bodies that do not possess genitalia. It also avoids any gender beyond the binary so that the audience do not have to consider the various social factors on shaping their identity. On the other hand, “Poor Things” and “Love Lies Bleeding” challenge the traditional, asexual representation of women and even question the identity of women. Such brutal representations of women certainly incite anger among a Chinese audience that have been historically banned from media with expressions of sex, sexuality.
Initially upset about Chinese feminist critiques on “Love Lies Bleeding” and “Poor Things”, I tried to restrict my grudge with my friend for a bit and reflect on the long history of abstinence in Chinese media, as well as the strict patriarchal tradition. In this context, the fluidity of identity and the openness about sex are perhaps intimidating to think about. The female body has been at the center of Chinese feminist discussions because their physical attributes have been both banned from being spoken of and used for reproduction solely. Reclaiming the many features of the female body back to women from the patriarchal and oppressive discourse is thus essential to Chinese feminists. Yet, “Poor Things” does not offer such a positive, restorative representation of the female body and instead of purging women from the sexual oppression of men, gives empowerment to sex. It also touches on the unstable relationship between the woman’s identity and the female body. “Love Lies Bleeding”, similarly, does not signal a realistic victory against the patriarchy.
The Western narrative of feminist movement has framed it as a linear progression from binary genders to non-binary ones, from equality with men to equity among all, and from sex restrictive to sex positive. However, the global reality of feminist movement is often more complicated, and the recent burst of feminist critiques on Hollywood movies in China offer such an example. Feminism, instead of pursuing a true answer of what gender is or which fraction is the most progressive, perhaps lies in the understanding of complex narratives around the female body. It demands a return to our physical desires beyond theoretical jargons: What are we? What does it mean to be a human? How have we grown into women?