One film in particular is forever etched on my mind. My roommate Sarah had
promised us an array of what she termed "French porn" that she had to watch for
an independent study. These films, to be clear, were not actually intended to
be pornography, but we sat down to watch with the expectation of more than a
little titillation nonetheless.
What I saw shocked me. I hadn't thought it possible, but this film, Catherine
Breillat's French-language Anatomy of Hell, while hailed critically for its
biting challenge of gender norms, shocked me. Brutal misogyny, graphic nudity,
frightfully inappropriate uses of lipstick-all of these combined to utterly
undo my belief that I could appreciate what the less-cultivated never could. I
actually had to hide my face once when the male lead used the end of a garden
tool to penetrate the female lead.
I don't mean to imply that this was a worthless film, or even that it
overstepped some invisible line of decency. But each time I recount the most
memorable moments-and I've left out one or two juicy ones-I am reminded that
what really shocked me was the raw power of the thing, and its ability to both
alienate and entice me. Though it took so much to produce this visceral
reaction, watching Anatomy of Hell made me understand how others from less
liberal upbringings must feel when confronted with much milder material.
I have always disdained the sexual mores of moderate America, censorship and
the unwillingness to talk about something as natural as sex. This film didn't
change my belief that our society should be more open about sex. On the
contrary, I think that talking about sex might help reduce tragedies like
sexism and homophobia. What Anatomy of Hell did do was make me empathize with
those whose reactions to overt sexuality are so confused and dismayed they can
do nothing but protest.
Last month, several young women from a Westchester, NY high school were
suspended for using the word "vagina" in a reading of The Vagina Monologues.
The girls pointed out that this is a scientifically acceptable term for a part
of the female body, and the play itself is meant to emphasize this. They are
correct, of course, but where I once would have simply dismissed the principal
who suspended these girls as vindictive, stories of outcry against sex now
consistently bring to my mind my own dismay at Anatomy of Hell's stunning
scenes. He is simply trying to keep his world of sexual values intact. I still
think he's wrong, but I understand the impulse.
