Can male directors make truly feminist films?
What qualities must a film have for it to be considered feminist? There’s no specific answer to this question, but it can surely be widely agreed that a feminist film must contain several of the following features: central female characters, an exploration of issues specifically related to the female experience, and a complex depiction of women without stereotypes. It is important to note that just because a movie features a female lead, this doesn’t make it feminist, nor does a film become feminist just because a woman directed it.
This begs the question – can a man truly make a feminist film? The movie industry has always been dominated by men, leaving many female stories tossed to the wayside. While there have been male directors who have created movies about female issues over the years, a grey area often forms when we come to decide whether these movies are feminist or not. Can a man really know what it’s like to experience the things that define many women’s experiences of womanhood, such as patriarchal pressures, male-incited abuse or being a mother? Surely, the answer is no – even the most empathetic man cannot fully grasp these themes, for they benefit from and actively contribute to the system that oppresses women by merely existing.
Most of the purest examples of feminist cinema have been written and directed by women, such as Věra Chytilová’s Daisies, Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielmann, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles, Savanah Leaf’s Earth Mama, Julie Dash’s Daughters of the Dust, and Agnes Varda’s Cleo from 5 to 7. These films are uncompromising in their depictions of the female experience, actively opposing the male gaze, depicting the everyday instances of objectification or subjugation experienced by most women or weaving in other intersections such as class and race.
It’s hard to imagine any of these films being made by men. Take Wanda, for example, which interrogates the difficulties of freeing oneself from the tight grip of the patriarchy. It is clear that the director, Barbara Loden, who also plays the titular role, has channelled so much of her own experiences of womanhood into the character, unafraid to present herself in a vulnerable state.
Similarly, Varda, a master of the French New Wave, dedicated her whole career to making movies about womanhood, tackling abortion, reproductive rights and friendship in One Sings, The Other Doesn’t, and homelessness in Vagabond. Her movies come from a very feminine perspective, where naked bodies are shown, but never in a leering, overtly sexualised way, and women are afforded complex personalities. It really does feel unlikely for a man to have been able to make a film like One Sings without significant input from women due to the extremely personal and female-oriented nature of the film (Varda, like her characters, had an abortion when they were illegal in France).
One of Varda’s contemporaries, Jean-Luc Godard, made several movies that have been labelled feminist, such as Vivre sa vie. While it is a beautiful film, its portrayal of the lead character’s journey into prostitution feels more like a metaphor for capitalism (which aligns with Godard’s Marxist leanings) rather than a movie truly concerned with the exploitation of women, specifically. Susan Sontag notes in her essay on the film, “The life of the prostitute is, of course the most radical metaphor for the act of lending oneself to others,” alluding to the mechanisms of capitalism. Additionally, the way that Godard treated women in his real life – frequently abandoning his wife, Anna Karina, and fighting with her on set – suggests that the filmmaker didn’t have women’s best interests at heart.
Yet, when we look at Eric Rohmer, another male filmmaker from the French New Wave era, his approach to depicting women was radically different. While his earlier films, part of his Six Moral Tales series, were led by male characters, the women within these films often possessed values associated with second-wave feminism, such as Chloé in Love in the Afternoon, who is independent and sexually liberated. However, it wasn’t until the ‘80s that he started making several movies that could be considered feminist. The Four Adventures of Reinette and Mirabelle and The Green Ray are both examples of Rohmer films which feel like they were directed by a woman.
The men in these films are largely nuisances, with the films delving into the personalities, hopes and dreams of complex women, while female friendship, feelings of isolation and a fight against injustice all play prominent roles. It’s arguable, however, that Rohmer was only able to make these feminist films because he worked so closely with women. On The Green Ray, for example, he worked with an all-female crew during shooting, often getting his cinematographer, Sophie Maintigneux, to take her camera for solo excursions with the lead actor, Marie Rivière, to capture naturalistic shots of her wandering in nature. Rivière also improvised most of her lines, forming the character herself.
If we look at some other films directed by men which present compelling explorations of the female experience, such as Black Girl by Ousmane Sembène, 20th Century Women by Mike Mills, and All About My Mother by Pedro Almodóvar, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to call them feminist. Certainly, these films deal with feminist themes, yet their narratives also explore other significant themes not exclusive to women, such as postcolonialism, race, masculinity, and family.
Thus, it seems like the most revolutionary kinds of feminist movies that directly attack patriarchy and dissect women’s issues are the ones made by women. The controversial work of Catherine Breillat is a good example of the kind of feminist cinema that could not be made by a man under any circumstances. Her films present intense depictions of female sexuality, whether that be through invasive close-ups of female genitalia and boundary-pushing depictions of BDSM and masturbation (Romance; Anatomy of Hell) or through the exploration of teenage sexual discovery (Fat Girl; A Real Young Girl). Her propensity for showing nudity – which, even in sexualised situations, largely remains unsexual – would not feel as poignant if it came from a male filmmaker.
Hollywood loves the idea of a feminist film, but the reality is that the movies which can truly live up to this label are the ones made by women with an experimental and transgressive approach. The mainstream industry has tried to push feminism in the form of male-directed movies like Kill Bill or Last Night in Soho – even Alien – but none of these can truly be considered feminist for a number of reasons, such as the lingering traces of the male gaze or a lack of true understanding of the issues they’re trying to attack. Of course, we can still enjoy these films, but it is worth thinking about the ways that cinema presents women and female-related issues.
Cinema is a mirror to real life, which, in turn, reflects back and creates an endless cycle of perpetuation. Thus, feminist cinema is hugely important for inspiring change, potentially altering male attitudes, and crafting a space for women to feel understood and represented. When it boils down to it, the most powerful pieces of feminist cinema are predominantly going to be those that have come from the minds of women who have firsthand experiences of the issues explored within their work. These are not men’s stories to tell or profit from.