Rebecca and Feminist Film Theory Jason A. Harrington “I do know that, as a feminist, it is my being drawn into cinematic depictions of this kind of sexual perversion that disturbs me most. It seems a gauge of my own colonized mind.” Julia Lesage The above quote is for me one of the central issues addressed in feminist writings on film. It is this relationship between the lure of film, and the struggle to make conscious the values and depiction’s that lie hidden within it, that must lead to a further understanding not just of the social structures of gender relations but of the most personally revealing aspects of our own desires and inner nature. In the above quote, Lesage reveals both her own desire which draws her to film, as well as her distaste for the perversion which so often underlies the works we enjoy the most. It questions our relationship to an external, unconsciously accepted doctrine of reality and that of an internal sense of personal truth and individuality. It is a statement that questions the nature of mass culture. Perhaps it begins to suggest a boarder line between those films that are art and those that are entertainment. Perhaps it suggests a lack of such a boarder. Clearly it attempts to distinguish between the conscious and unconscious experience of film. Much can be gained through a thoughtful and rounded feminist approach such as that laid out by Judith Mayne. Films, which at first serve a sexist ideology, can be turned into a tool of social and political critique. But, as Mayne clearly points out, the problem of the film itself still exists. Should we place artistic value on a film because critics can use it as an example of sexist roles in the cinema? What about the millions of people who see and love films without an avenue to this intellectual discourse? Mayne approaches her critique not just from the vantage of the critics’ world, but also from the consciousness of the whole of society. She has the ability to approach central problems of feminist and non-feminist film theory from many different angles, taking into account the perspectives of critics, filmmakers as well as that of the common viewer. The artist, it seems, is precisely the one who formulates a self-reflective and simultaneous socially critical statement. Therefore film that is art must stand outside the structures, while stemming from an individual who lives within this very structure. Mayne pursues the question of contradiction in film. There are many levels of contradiction. Hollywood contradiction most often stems from the current fashions of social/political issues and therefore only scratches the surface and, in the end, reinforces the values the film seems to critique. However, great artists (Shakespeare for example) seem to capture the highest levels of contradiction. The art of film making today must not simply feed the desire to experience the magic of a dream world, but must also inspire the audience to actively and consciously engage in the cinematic experience. Unfortunately the laws of mass appetite, in a society so influenced by its natural/material desires, push the market in the opposite direction. Rebecca, like so many films I watch, is a good example of this personal conflict between pleasure and distaste. It is all too easy to accept Hollywood’s happy endings and think no further. But all is not well that ends well. Most of my friends don’t have much interest in discussing films after watching them. This drives me crazy. What other way is there to process, to externalize that which we have just passively received? We either unconsciously incorporated it into our psyche, or we reflect and gain critical distance. The consequences of accepting films on their own terms without engaging them with ones own personality are devastating. Indeed society today is infected with this consciousness-numbing disease of media culture. Yet, I enjoyed watching Rebecca. I was even mostly content with its conclusion. However, after real reflection I realize that this film contradicts so much of what I believe in and work towards. It enforces and idealizes norms of perception which are sexist and discriminatory. Films like Rebecca reinforce the fear and alienation experienced between men and women. As Hitchcock expresses his twisted fears and unconscious neurosis in his films, he creates a seductive world of fantasy through which the audience can experience these same fears. As in dreams, we experience in a semi-conscious state the fulfillment of our desires. In the case of Hitchcock’s Rebecca this fulfillment is the metaphorical burning of the evil, all-consuming, powerful, independent, feminine Rebecca. The heroine however is distinctly subservient, childlike, personalitiless. Her only desire is Maxim’s love. She too is dominated by the real, yet invisible, woman of the story. This powerful, so-called “castrating” element of the feminine is not just a fear existing in men. The archetype of embracing feminine power is fearful to all those who unconsciously exist within the walls of our patriarchal ideology. The term castrating is therefore misleading. This is really a fear of a loss of ego, loss of the power gained in selfishness and lost in selflessness. The power felt through segregation and a sense of superiority bases on special qualities is threatened by the all consuming and unifying embrace of the feminine. This is not simply a matter of film as a medium for the acting out of men’s sense of envy of female power. Female power can and does exist within men as can masculine desire within women. Sex often reflects an objectification of the physical body of the other in order to satisfy purely selfish desires. However, it can be a process of cultivating a state of selflessness and coexistence with the “other.”