Sébastien Lifshitz constructs a particularly quiet narrative in his portrayal of the intersecting lives of the characters within his 2004 film, Wild Side. The film itself is not only nuanced in its capture of holistic characterizations - digging deep into why and how its players do what they do, which is to say... not much, but also in its diversity of lifestyle, life identity, and life circumstance. His story illustrates mere glimpses of the characters’ lives and the ways in which they go about forming and developing relationships and means of survival, all of which are in stark conversation with the ways in which France forms and maintains its social norms, politics, and economy.
What is initially noteworthy, though, is the simplicity the film utilizes to construct its characters and their lives. A contextual description of the film - a trans woman in Paris survives as a sex worker and is part of a polyamorous relationship with a hustler and a Russian soldier working as a waiter while she also takes care of her ill mother who resides in the countryside - is more exciting than the actual narrative points of the film. So much happens without anything happening at all. Careful details are drawn to illustrate who these players are and what their relationship to each other is. It is in such a quiet story that Lifshitz humanizes - and thus normalizes - everyone from Stephanie to Djamel to Mikhail to La Maman. Through abrupt cuts and stark editing, a juxtaposition of Stephanie is laid out to communicate all of her lifestyles. From a childhood as Pierre to the tender care Stephanie gives her mother to the sex work she does to gain income, the camera pieces them all together to formulate an amalgamation that is fully formed yet meshed together like two, uneven mounds of clay rather than perfect-fit puzzle pieces.
In portraying his characters as humanized, Lifshitz’s film also comments on the elasticity of human experience, particularly for those living in contemporary France. The ways Stephanie and Djamel earn a living and the relationship between Stephanie, Djamel, and Mikhail are all one that exhibit alternative perspectives that are intertwined with what is seen as deviant for French neoliberalism and the free-market global capital that is supposed to exclusively support that structure. Although Stephanie is phenotypically a white woman, her trans identity place her on the outskirts of not only society but also of the sex industry itself. All three are placed on the margins of society by existing in and exploring a polyamorous relationship, particularly with two presumably male-identified individuals and a trans woman. It is those boundaries and the crossing on those boundaries by the characters that exemplify the state’s lack of presence and non-interference, thwarting the political and social economies that invisibilize and silence those experiences.
Furthermore, all of these complications of identity, especially as they relate to overarching constructions of society, are further discussed as space is used as another medium to differentiate time and mind space, cinematically painting a direct human experience of complex reality. The difference between a long shot of a young Pierre running free around in bright green pastures, with the expanse of mountains in the background, against the tight, dark framing of Stephanie dancing with friends at the club conveys not only the dynamic shifts of place, space, and geographic location but also the transformative boundaries of identity and personal growth.
Wild Side is a film that left me feelings nothing and everything at the same time. I left the classroom unsure what emotions I was experiencing because, indeed, I was feeling so many simultaneously. Not only as a super queer film that is rare in its written, direction, and production quality, but also as a film that takes the time to tell a story simply by telling the audience about its characters, Wild Side reminds us that, even on social margins, human experience is real, authentic, and valid.
Here is a clip for Sex Work Awareness, who’s public service announcement is “Sex workers are people, too.”
-Kenny Gong
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When I wrote my blog, I discussed Stephanie/Pierre's pastoral memories as indicative of an emptiness and disconnect of sorts with her "boyhood". After reading your blog, I am reconsidering this. I am interested in the questions of framing you raise as relates to the pastoral scenes versus those of Stephanie in the club, and I am wondering if there is more to this than I initially grasped. Is it possible that Stephanie, as Pierre, had the "unlimited" freedom of those expansive pastoral shots, still being aligned with the "heteronormative" in the sense she was still living as a boy? The tight confines of the club scenes, following this logic, could be construed as indicative of the tightly proscribed, marginal existence "allowed" her by French society as someone who stepped outside of the preferred "heteronormative" (re: ideal) citizen role. Just more food for thought- thanks for challenging my initial conceptions!
ReplyDeleteYour analysis of the complications of Stephanie’s identity, juxtaposing her childhood, her daughterly role in caring for her ill mother, her work as a prostitute, and her role as a lover in a polyamorous relationship is particularly compelling. To come to the conclusion of Lifshitz’s humanization of characters by exemplifying the complexity of their realities and normalization of their “unconventional” lives through subtle portrayals is an excellent reading of the film. Thanks for your thoughtful breakdown of these character dynamics…I hadn’t thought about it in these terms before. This is an awesome post.
ReplyDeleteYou commented on the glimpse the director make regarding the characters life. It is really interesting the possibilities that edition has in the construction of a film. The director presents us with glimpses, short and apparently unrelated sequences. This kind of construction is asking attention from the spectator. We need to work with the text, to engage in a reflection about the material that it is presented to us. A narrative that is linear and direct asks for a passive spectator, but this type of movie is asking for us to participate in the construction of meaning. Our horizon of expectations delimits our response, but I think it is very remarkable the way in which Wild Side presents itself.
ReplyDeleteAlso, as you pointed out I left the classroom unsure of what was the message the movie tried to deliver. But after all, I believe that it is calling upon the spectator to actively reconstruct the story
I was really struck when reading your post by your use of the word/concept of quiet to describe this film. It seems a very beautiful way of discussing this particular film; throughout the viewing, I was struck by how non-confrontational and smooth the film felt, despite its overwhelming subject matter. The film grabbed me, definitely, and kept my attention and interest the whole way, but it went about doing that in a way that felt particularly gentle. I am not sure if we are using this word to mean the same thing, but your post reminded me of my emotional experience with this film. Thanks for the post!
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