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Showing posts from March, 2019

Refuting Gender Roles: An Independent Female Lead in "Silence of the Lambs"

Photo Credit: gamesradar+ Although Silence of the Lambs is profoundly disturbing in both its transphobic undertones and in its portrayal of a cannibalistic serial killer as a compelling, empathetic character, it’s innovation lies in its ability to transcend binary gender roles, allowing a female lead to possess agency, intelligence, and a completely bad-assed personality. The film begins with the protagonist, Clarice Starling, hurtling through an obstacle course alone, climbing over nets, and jumping over logs. Before she is able to complete the course, Special Agent-in-Charge, Jack Crawford, summons her to his office, and she runs back, bolting passed a tree with the motto, “Hurt, Agony, Pain―Love it.…or die” nailed into the bark. These words foreshadow the final scenes of the film, where Starling comes close to death in her encounter with the sinister Buffalo Bill. As she runs, the camera pans over the rest of her class training together. Already, the dichotomy between Clari

We're All Voyeurs: A Review of Hitchcock's "Rear Window"

Photo Credit:  Film Forever Rear Window is a film about watching. We watch the protagonist, L.B.Jeffries, be forced to lead a life of mundanity as his cast confines him to the four walls of his apartment. We watch his neighbors, Ms. Lonelyhearts, Ms. Torso, and Thorwald, each cope with their loneliness in sad, distinct ways. We watch Jeffries’ girlfriend, Lisa, wholeheartedly commit to a man who is afraid of commitment. And most importantly, we watch Jeffries do the watching. The film begins with the camera panning over the apartment complexes in Greenwich Village, New York, focusing through every rear window in the vicinity. The audience is introduced to Jeff’s neighbors, and even though we, nor Jeff, ever meet most of his neighbors, Jeff forms intricate backstories for them, finding entertainment in the seemingly mundane lives of those around him: Ms. Torso practices ballet every morning, stretching her legs on her kitchen counter and bending forward, her short-shorts on full