Heterosexual Fetishization Exposed
I needed somewhere to go on a Wednesday evening, so I went to see Femme on a lark. Released last year across the Atlantic, Femme’s North American distribution began on April 5th. I had never heard of the film, and screenings were scarce at the AMC I frequent. The premise hooked me: Jules (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett), a drag queen, is the victim of a homophobic attack. Months later, Jules finds their attacker, Preston (George MacKay), at a gay bathhouse. Stripped, swapping one facade for another, Jules embarks on a quest for seductive revenge. Femme, marketed as a queer neo-noir, did not meet my expectations. It shattered them.
Femme is a fine example of neo-noir, but it shines as an erotic thriller. The pervasive tension stems from the constant threat of the self-loathing homophobe teetering on the edge of violence as Jules proceeds into unsafe situations to get closer to Preston. Jules’ ire and desire co-mingle in the most thrilling, erotic, and incisive critique of toxic gay sexual dynamics that I’ve seen.
Femme is a richly layered text that approaches its subject matter with tact and appropriate restraint without sacrificing its unflinching confrontation of the erotics of gay desire as they are culturally ingrained (i.e., the fetishization of masculinity and, by proxy, straight men who, by definition, don’t desire same-sex relations), and the ways they are perpetuated in gay pornography.
Gender, race, incarceration, toxic masculinity, risky sexual behavior, consent, degradation, fetishization, violence, and so much more swirl in a murky cocktail of ethical provocation.
As the victim of violence, Jules’ desire for revenge is understandable. He deserves justice, but what does justice look like for Jules? Is it a direct reciprocation of the violence inflicted on him? Or does revenge take the form of something more intimate, a weaponization of vulnerability around sexual identity? What will quell the trauma that has upended Jules’ entire life? Is Jules’ retribution against a violent homophobe ethically justifiable? Neither Femme nor I are interested in litigating the ethical boundaries of gay desire generally, but the film pokes and prods at difficult issues.
We cannot help what we are attracted to, and we are often attracted to what we are surrounded by. Yet the fact remains the pervasive desire for heterosexual men cannot be acted upon. When it is, the encounter is not likely to be tender and loving. Generally speaking, in DL gay sex, emotional intimacy is simply too gay.
These (generalized) problematic dynamics reduce sex to a purely physical act gratifying secret desires. As depicted in Femme, toxic DL dynamics are governed by power dynamics underlain by threats of violence, rooted in fear of being outed as gay, a prospect that feels world-ending from inside the closet. The closeted homophobe’s repressed desires are their greatest vulnerability, and, as we see in Femme, acting on those desires is when the closeted homophobe is most vulnerable and, as a result, most volatile.
It seems to me that the sexual desires Femme is interested in examining perpetuate a vicious cycle that replicates the trauma of being young and gay, discovering that you’re attracted to men that, statistically, probably won’t reciprocate desire. When you’re young and closeted, you hide your desire for fear that it will lead to ostracism, ridicule, or violence. Thus, desire and fear intertwine in ways that have the potential to resound beyond adolescence. This troubling fact lies at Femme’s center and animates the developing relationship between Jules and Preston.
There’s something poetic about seducing, degrading, and exposing the insecure homophobic bullies that so often sow the seeds of our own self-loathing. However, considered from a different perspective, is the homophobic bully anything more than a pitiful man-child lashing out? Are violent bigots deserving of empathy that they’ve never displayed? Are we compelled to sympathize with the oppressive fear of the closet which we know all too well?
Femme poses uncomfortable questions without simple answers. For some viewers, including myself, the answers may seem cut and dry. Yet as Femme progresses, it actively works to complicate these questions, humanizing Preston as Jules becomes increasingly entangled with his target.
Given its provocative nature and subcultural specificity, your mileage may vary when watching Femme. This viewer was shocked, stunned, and surprised by Femme’s transgressive audacity. I would recommend it, pending you have the stomach for its thematic material.
Until next week, film freak.