In an interview with Vanity Fair, Natalie Portman revealed that she does not believe in “the female gaze.” Specifically, Portman defended this stance, saying that “to say that a female director has a particular gaze is reductive of women’s individuality and points of view…Female directors should have the same opportunities as their male counterparts. But the experience of working with a director has to do with the individual, and it doesn’t relate to gender,”

The title was a lot to take in, but it felt entirely less shocking after reading the entire article. I interpreted her words in one of two ways. The female gaze does not exist, or at least, Portman does not believe in its existence. Or, more likely, Portman believes the female gaze should not exist. But to attack the female gaze would then attack what Mulvey termed the “male gaze.” I do not believe Portman can deny that, historically, Hollywood has pushed a patriarchal gaze onto women in film. Furthermore, if we believe in the male gaze, we reduce the experience of working with a director to gender. Right? 

Let’s explore.

Male versus Female Gaze

Film Theorist Laura Mulvey famously termed and defined the “male gaze” in her 1973 essay “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” In short, the male gaze objectifies the woman, removing agency and creating or continuing the patriarchal fantasy. The male drives the narrative, and the female acts as the spectacle. 

Mulvey’s work has inspired or been the base for many feminist critiques. More recently, films featuring male spectacle (such as the Magic Mike trilogy) and almost all the work of director Céline Sciamma have inspired the counter use of the “female gaze.” The waters get muddy as different theorists use the term “gaze”–whether male, black, white, or female–to illustrate different experiences and theories. In the words of a 2023 article on Mulvey’s gaze, the gaze has been reduced to who is looking rather than how.

So, when people discuss the supposed female gaze today, they are most likely talking about films “designed for women” to look at. For some, they assume the male body on display is attached to the female gaze. That’s why the characters in Magic Mike or every other superhero film have their shirts off in multiple scenes. Funny enough, women did not direct most of those films. 

Others define the female gaze as female characters’ rejection of Hollywood conformities. More often than not, audiences associate this with a lesbian romance, such as in Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019). However, this rejection of Hollywood conformities includes the female character’s refusal to be objectified, as defined by Mulvey’s male gaze theory. The female character has agency and drives the narrative of the film. It isn’t necessarily about her looks or sexuality. 

Perhaps, most importantly, the female gaze can be considered an oppositional gaze, a term coined by bell hooks. While hooks used the term for black female spectatorship, if we apply it to the female gaze, it is a way for females to reject Hollywood’s use of female characters and choose to view them from a different perspective. For example, classic female superheroes such as Wonder Woman or Black Widow are hypersexualized for male pleasure. However, as women, we can choose to view them and focus on their strength, character, and overall badassness rather than focus on their expertly sculpted and costumed bodies.

Does It Exist?

Of course, it exists. Total rejection of the existence of the female gaze is just as absurd as total rejection of the male gaze. The female fantasy, just like the male fantasy, exists. The two occupy large spaces in both Hollywood and audience viewing experiences. 

Are movies still designed to fit the male gaze? Yes. Is it done intentionally? That depends on the director and producers and probably a list of one hundred other things. 

Are movies being designed to fit the female gaze? Yes. And it is being done intentionally. When a film conforms to either rejecting the male gaze or adhering to the female gaze, it is marketed as such. Greta Gerwig’s Barbie (2023), if nothing else, was both subtly and directly marketed as a movie for women by women. Its intentionality speaks to society not yet being comfortable with films conforming to other types of gaze. So, they are marketed as “revolutionary,” as if someone just discovered the female gaze/pleasure. 

The existence of the female gaze is even more prevalent as conversations about cinema are leaving theorist papers and entering social and popular media. People, average people, discuss what women are looking for. The trend “men written by women” establishes the female gaze as a tangible objective for male action and characterization. (Think Timothée Chalamet in Little Women (2019) or Matthew Macfadyen in Pride and Prejudice (2005).)

Should It Exist?

Suppose the female gaze is nothing more than a blueprint for filmmakers to follow to “appeal” to the female audience. Its existence is nothing more than a generalization of “what women want.” It is the assumption that female audience members are looking for something particular when they watch a film. That assumption is usually men with washboard abs, men in white, half-buttoned period-piece shirts, or lesbians.

Now, this is not to say that films like Magic Mike, Pride and Prejudice, and Portrait of a Lady on Fire cannot or should not exist and do not bring audiences pleasure. All three films, in their own right, brought something to the screen in an attempt to ignite some type of reaction in their respective audiences. However, these are three very different films by three different directors. I think it is fair to agree with Portman that they should not all be reduced to “female gaze” films because each film has something very different to say. Portman’s rejection of the female gaze seems to fall under the rejection of the female gaze being treated as a category. Not all women want the same thing. Not all films written or directed by women say the same thing.

Where Does the Gaze Go From Here?

The reality is the female gaze occupies different spaces in the theoretical world. To some, the female gaze is the rejection of the male gaze, and therefore, we choose to view the female characters presented on the screen in a different manner. To others, the female gaze is a reduction of female individuality in an attempt to categorize certain traits, plots, and characters as pleasurable for female audiences.

Both types of this gaze exist. Sorry, Ms. Portman. 

Should both types of gaze exist? That is not so black and white.

If films that are attuned to Mulvey’s male gaze are still being produced on a larger scale, it is naive to assume that the oppositional female gaze will not continue. It probably should continue in order for us to continue to reject patriarchal Hollywood. I believe their existence is codependent. One cannot look oppositionally without a dominant gaze being forced upon them. And a dominant gaze cannot exist without other gazes rejecting them.

Should films then be designed for women? Designed to satisfy the female gaze? Naturally, it is safe to assume that films will both intentionally and unintentionally satisfy this supposed gaze. Women will find more pleasure in certain types of films because they resonate with the characters and stories presented on screen. I believe the female gaze will die out only when Hollywood decides to stop viewing female-directed films as “women’s films” and, as Portman said, men and women in the industry have the exact same opportunities. If all genders work on films together, is it possible that films will no longer satisfy one gaze or another? Still, film feels ultimately too subjective to expect complete equilibrium in everything produced. For how can film change if our perspective and experience in society do not?

Article Courtesy of Sara Ciplickas

Feature Image from ‘Little Women;’ Credit to Sony Pictures Releasing via The New York Times