My husband and I went to see Sucker Punch the weekend it debuted, and we enjoyed it greatly. However, I was disturbed by the fact that of approximately 30 people in the audience, only six of them were women (including myself). For all that this movie was an attempt to cash in on the vision of violent women, it was not a movie that sought to show them as empowered. Instead, it was a film about watching women and the power women hold when they are observed by others. In this case, the "others" were clearly men. The subtext of the movie was clearly visible even in its commercials, which would explain why so few women wanted to see it.
In a related note, Sucker Punch was referenced in a recent skit on Saturday Night Live. You can see the skit below:
Salon wrote about the skit in an article titled "Saturday Night Live hosted by Elton John's homosexuality". In writing about the sketch, Drew Grant claims
And then there was this sketch "The Silver Screen," the premise of which, as far as I could tell, is that it's funny when old queens give each other pet names. Every time Taran Killam and Elton kissed, the audience hooted.
This was not to say "The Silver Screen" wasn't funny. It was very funny. And there is definitely room for gay humor on TV. But not if it's being used as the only thing making a sketch funny: the concept for "Silver Screens" couldn't have been more than "Two gay men spend more time making googly eyes at each other while dressed like Christopher Guest from 'Waiting for Guffman' than paying attention to Vanessa Hudgens." (To be fair, a lot of things are better than paying attention to Vanessa Hudgens.)
As I read what Salon had to say and rewatched the skit, I can't help but think that Drew Grant missed one of the vital points of it. He also participated in one of the things that made me truly angry about this episode of SNL: the casual sexism.
In my reading of the skit, I do see the focus as being upon the gay movie reviewers, but it is not insignificant that they're reviewing Sucker Punch. They're pointing out to viewers a fact that should be obvious but hasn't been talked about nearly enough: this movie has a very limited audience. It's aimed primarily at heterosexual men and boys--especially those with an interest in s/f, steampunk, or manga. Despite the growing influence of the geek market, that's a rather small niche. The shocked faces of Tarran Killam and Elton John (I love the delayed shock in John's case) indicate just how appalled they are by this spectacle of women's bodies and violence. Their disinterest in Vanessa Hudgins (which Drew Grant endorses) becomes less a dismissal of the movie--about which they have no interest--than a dismissal of modern women altogether. The only woman they admire in the course of the skit is Claudette Colbert--about whom Killam's character says, "They don't make them like they used to," before adding that her "bangs scream sex!" John's character, not to be outdone, adds "Now that's a muff I'd put my hand in."
SNL bothered me so much that week because this sort of humor was used throughout the night. It was as if the writers could not imagine a gay friendly joke that was also friendly to women. Instead, the jokes that night focused solely on Elton John's sexuality and presented women as disinteresting at best, disgusting at worst. I know Rachel Dratch isn't on the show any more, but that night would have been a great night to bring back the infamous skit "The Woman with No Gaydar." Dratch's character always looked silly when she'd find herself in a gay bar and think that it was a great place to find men, but the humor was never mean spirited--unlike "The Old West" skit that night, wherein Kristen Wiig, as a old West prostitute, continually throws herself at Elton John's cowboy character, only to be repeatedly insulted as he pursued a local cowboy.
Warning: movie spoilers ahead.
I loved Sucker Punch. I thought it was inventive and visually stunning. It's the story of a seemingly unnamed young woman (supposedly 22 years old). After the death of her mother, the young woman tries to protect her younger sister from their stepfather (whether he's threatening the child with violence or with specifically sexual violence remains uncertain). In the struggle, the younger girl dies, and the stepfather decides to have our heroine committed rather than make her available to police questioning. This scene is quick and scored to the Eurthymic's "Sweet Dreams," in one of the better uses of the song I've ever seen. In addition to the song, the opening sequence features voice-over narration talking about guardian angels and their ability to save you. At the institution, the stepfather signs up our girl for a lobotomy. The doctor will be there in five days. In the meantime, she'll participate in the theatrical therapy endorsed by the Polish doctor in charge of the facility.
Once at the institution, the sense of reality--odd though it may have been--rapidly breaks down. The evil orderly (who seemingly runs the place) seems to be using it as a dance hall/brothel. The other patients--who are all attractive young women--perform on stage and in the bedroom for the local influential men. When the doctor gets our girl--now called Babydoll--to dance for the first time, everyone around her is stunned. They stare at her, open eyed and open mouthed, as if she was the most amazing thing they had ever seen. The audience doesn't see the dance--instead, we see a story of Babydoll talking to a mentor and asking for the tools to achieve power and escape. He tells her that she needs a map, fire, a knife, and a key. Back at the dance hall, the orderly decides to give Babydoll to the High Roller--a man that will arrive in the clinic in five days. Babydoll convinces her fellow inmates to seek the items with her in order to escape. Each time they seek an item, they use Babydoll's dancing to distract their mark. As with the first dance, the audience never sees what Babydoll does and instead sees a mission that becomes a metaphor for their task.
Throughout the movie, Babydoll is seeking independence and power. She wants to use the tools of her oppressors to set herself and the other women free. The way she entrances her marks with her dancing is much the same way in which we viewers are stunned by the movie. As the tagline claims, we are unprepared. But more than that, we viewers are implicated in the crimes against women portrayed in the movie. We are the audience being silenced and controlled by Babydoll's metaphorical dancing. This is a movie that wants to empower women but at the same time uses them as objects of consumption.
This mixed message comes through loud and clear, and it's no wonder why women stayed away from the movie. We've seen enough misogyny. We don't need more fed to us as a metaphor for empowerment. But at the same time, this film is not misogynistic. It's confused, and that confusion hits the heart of our culture's relationship to women more accurately than any parable of hate or power. Just like our culture, it can't decide if it's best to be a doll or a real girl.
When SNL used Sucker Punch as a passing mention in their skit, they knew exactly what they were doing. They knew that this is not a movie for gay men--or for anyone other than a certain portion of the geek community. They knew what they were saying when they glamorized Claudette Colbert to the detriment of living women. Normally, I love SNL, but that week, I simply could not look beyond the misogyny.
What does it say about me that I loved Sucker Punch? Well, the simple facts of the matter are:
- I'm a geek.
- I like action movies.
- I like steampunk.
- I'm an academic with interests in gender studies, so the indeterminacy of the film's potential for misogyny and for empowerment gives me plenty to think about.
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