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Philosophy, Fantasy and Film
The Other Alien – Gender at the
Movies
Alien – VCV 1993 (Dir. Ridley
1. The Phallocentric
Look
We have already attended
to the notion of "The Look" or "The Gaze," which has its
theoretical roots in existentialist writing.
What is important here,
from a phenomenological point of view, is that the constitution of the
meaningful contours of ‘what’ is seen through The Look has to do with the ways
in which we see, rather than what is there in itself. What is seen is the
product of the ‘way’ in which it is encountered. Ambiguous figures like the
dual image of a ‘vase / two faces’ illustrate this point exactly. What appears
is determined by what one has a tendency to look for. How one looks is,
in turn, informed by the social, aesthetic, ideological, and political
conventions that have been introjected throughout
one’s daily life, e.g., through the media, by one’s peers and one's parents,
etc.
The specific forms of
givenness of alterity are both conditioning and conditioned and they trace out
the signature of a ‘shared’ history – a ‘communality of differences’ – that is
always already in play as the fundamental horizon of both the intra-subjective
and inter-subjective spheres of experience. I shall turn to one particular
trace of this history – that which announces sexual difference.
It has been argued that
gender orientation is purely a product of the values imposed by society and
that it is far from being natural in an ‘essential’ sense. Twenty years of gay
and feminist politics have, as
Phallocentrism is the name that is
given to the patriarchal language through which sexuality is defined (phallus
centered). Psychoanalysis provides certain tools with which to deconstruct it,
but it is questionable as to whether it would ever be possible to step outside phallocentric language itself. Within this language, woman
is defined according to the Freudian concept of lack. While man is caught up in
the clutches of the Oedipus Complex, woman is trapped by the Electra Complex –
which is defined by ‘lack.’ From the masculine point of view, she represents a
bleeding wound and the threat of castration. Woman is the object of a Look that
is built upon a kind of panic about possible loss. Principally, her presence
represents a certain lack of presence. Ultimately, she is caught up in a nexus
of representation, whose logic is defined by male anxiety. She is never wholly
present for herself, but only ‘appears’ as the representation of a lack.
However, the integrity and the fullness of presence of masculinity is, in turn,
dependent upon this impoverishment of the meaning of woman.
As Mulvey
writes,
The paradox of phallocentrism in all its manifestations is that it depends
on the image of the castrated woman to give order and meaning to its world. The
idea of woman stands as linchpin to the system; it is her lack that produces
the phallus as a symbolic presence; it is her desire to make good the lack that
the phallus signifies (Mulvey, Visual Pleasure and
Narrative Cinema, p. 14).
Mulvey’s article maintains that
cinema determines the formal aesthetical function of woman. In other words,
cinematic narrative form determines the ‘way’ in which we perceive women. The
article attempts to analyze the beauty and pleasure given through the lenspiece
of cinema to the point of destruction "…in order to conceive a new
language of desire" (Ibid. p. 16). It is argued, with respect to
the phallocentric hierarchy, that woman is
traditionally placed in a mere supportive role to the male protagonist. Her
lack emphasizes his stature and heroism. The question is whether this point of
view actually has any currency today. There is a short reference to the fact
that there "…are films with a woman as main protagonist of course" (Ibid.
p.20). However, this comment is placed within parentheses, which only serves to
diminish the point. The writer quickly sweeps this aside by saying, "To
analyze this phenomenon seriously here would take me too far afield." The justification for this dismissal is that
"the strength of this female protagonist is more apparent than real"
(Ibid. p. 21).
Scopophilia: pleasure in looking:
The Other seen as object
(active): pleasure in objectifying the other – voyeurism, fetishism.
The Other seen as
subject (passive): developed through narcissism and the constitution of the
ego. It comes from identification with the image that is seen – empathy.
2. The Humanization of the
Feminine: transcending objectification to subject of empathy
Just over twenty years
ago (1979),
The only real phallic
power symbol is that of the alien itself. In its first stage, it attaches
itself to a potential host and forces a proboscis down the throat of the victim
(the violence of penetration). The first victim is a man (a pilot named Kane,
played by John Hurt). Here, the male audience has the opportunity to identify
with the victim of a symbolic rape. There is not the usual distance of the male
gaze upon this act, which usually divorces it from an empathic connection to
penetrative violence. Men are forced to identify with the victim. With the introjection of the extra-terrestrial penis, the seed
literally develops into a creature in the form of a phallus and eventually
explodes through the chest of the host, killing him (much of the shock
expressed by the actors at this point in the film is actually authentic, since
they were not told exactly what was going to happen in this scene). Henceforth,
the alien is referred to as "Kane’s child." The Freudian references
exist in abundance. It is interesting to note that even some of the incidental
music was taken from John Huston’s film about Freud’s life, The Secret
Passion (the scores for both films were written by Jerry Goldsmith).
The image of the alien
was designed by the Swiss artist, H.R. Giger. What is
instantly noticeable about this creature (in its adult form) is that the head
is literally shapped like a penis. In its behaviour, the creature is the pure manifestation of
unconscious, naked aggression. Its primary motivation is to plunge its
extending jaws into its victims, feed, and reproduce itself. Here, we have a
powerful symbolic incarnation of masculine malevolence – raw, naked ‘male’
power. The introduction of a female combatant into the scenario serves to
disrupt the balance of what would otherwise be an unconscious phallocentric dimension of powerplay.
The only other female on board the space tug Nostromo
is Lambert, whose stereotypical female timidity and tendency to nag acts as a
counterpoint to Ripley’s incarnation of woman. Actually, much of Ripley’s
strength lies in her resolute compassion (at one point, she even puts herself
at risk to save the ship’s cat). She is also determined to destroy the monster,
even at the expense of her own life. This is in diametrical opposition to the
directive laid down by the company that employs her, which wants to keep the alien
alive, not for humane reasons, but for profit (as an acquisition for its
bio-weapons division). Gender perception is confused on a number of different
levels. One of the most significant moments of shock in the film is when Ripley
discovers that the crew of the Nostromo have
been betrayed by the ship’s computer, which is called “Mother!”
Ripley utilizes the
ready-to-hand hostility of the natural environment to protect herself – a kind
of passive violence. She saves herself by opening the airlock, which causes the
creature to be blown out into the vacuum of space.
In the second
installment of the Alien series: Aliens (1986),
The sequel also explores
the social order of the alien itself – which is primarily insect-like. The
hierarchical system is matriarchical, where the
males, like worker bees are expendable. The real power lies with the queen.
This creature is larger and more powerful than its male workers. This
demonstrates a more biologistic approach to gender
difference that goes beyond the sexual politics constructed according to an
anthropomorphic phallocentric order. The final
showdown in this film is between Ripley, who has become a surrogate mother to
an orphaned child, and the queen alien who seeks to protect her eggs – the
clash of the titan mothers.
In the fourth film, Alien:
Resurrection, Ripley is brought back to life through a process of cloning.
However, it is not strictly Ripley who is resurrected. This time (approximately
two hundred years after she died), the character is a genetic combination of
her former self and the alien child that she carried inside her body. This
allows an exploration of the issue of alterity beyond sexual difference and, at
the same time, it presents a rather tongue in cheek approach to the character,
since this incarnation of Ripley is stronger than the burliest male in the film
(whose behavior exemplifies the epitome of male chauvinistic aggression). On
the one hand, one might say that this transformation represents a return to the
androgynous form of the character in the first film. On the other hand, it
might be said that Ripley’s increased strength actually represents an inversion
– an over-masculinisation of the character (already
hinted at in the third movie, when she appears with a shaved head). This allows
some fun in that Ripley’s increased strength means payback time – where certain
testosterone-saturated males are given a taste of their own machismo (another
humorous inversion has to do with the computer-system – former matriarchal
nemesis of the ‘expendable’ crew of the first film – which has now become
“Father!”).
Of course, sheer
strength need not necessarily be associated with the phallocentric
order. It is really a question of ‘how’ Ripley uses it – and of her particular
motivation. Once again, it is in the service of compassion and surrogate
motherhood. In this installment, the child is represented by an android, played
by Winona Ryder. In a sense, the fourth film takes a hard look at the whole
question of social categorization, well beyond the limits of gender difference.
It asks whether the clone of Ripley, or more correctly, the cloned fusion of
Ripley and the alien child is actually human at all. The blurring of the boundary
between human and non-human is further complicated by the question of the form
of being of Winona Ryder’s android role.
* * *
Madness and Civilization. A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason. Translated from the
French by Richard Howard. Routledge.
Moore,
Suzanne.
Mulvey, Laura. "Visual Pleasure and Narrative
Cinema."
Myers,
Kathy. "Towards a Feminist Erotica."