"Women in Love" (not really)
Last week I went to see "Women in Love," which is a documentary made by a woman who chronicles several years of her life and her relationships through taping herself and the people she's involved with. The film sets out to explore questions like why her relationships don't last, why she decides to pursue non monogamy and why she ends up wanting to be involved with men as well as women. Given that I have been asking the latter two questions of my own life in recent months (well, it started several years ago, but the questioning in earnest began this past summer), I had expected the film to have more resonance with me, but there was something about the execution that I found lacking.
The film felt surprisingly self indulgent, as though she was using the camera (and thereby, the viewer) in lieu of a therapist, instead of making an honest effort to explore her own behavior and the possible cultural implications of it. I never got a sense for what exactly non monogamy meant to her, beyond the fact that it seemed to be the only way she could make a relationship last, and yet the viewer uninitiated into the benefits of polyamory would not find this a particularly compelling argument. And she likewise didn't explore why she might be interested in getting involved with men, after identifying as a lesbian for so long, other than that she wanted to enjoy her feminine side (which didn't entirely make sense to me -- can't one be feminine with another woman?) Serious speculation on the topic conveyed by the title of the film seemed conspicuously absent.
I was particularly struck while watching the film by the audience's reactions, which were not positive, especially when the film featured some of the men the film maker had become involved with. The lesbians in the crowd made their displeasure known both audibly, through whispers that bordered on "boos," and through a negative energy that was palpable. And the whispers didn't die down until the film was over, at which point I overheard people saying things to the effect that not only did the film maker need therapy, the speaker herself would need therapy to recover from the film. Several people commented on the film maker's lack of boundaries and obsessive processing without a hint of irony (given that these behaviors are common enough among lesbians to be part of the stereotype).
It was at that moment that I realized just how alienated I feel from lesbian culture, given that my recent experience and shift in identity pushes me beyond its outer edge. I've always been on the margins looking in, never quite fitting in, and have been OK with that, as I nevertheless felt that these were "my people," the people among whom I felt free to relax and be myself. And yet now I feel adrift in that uncharted territory known as "queer." At least that's a label that still fits. But the documentary that comes close to telling my version of the story has yet to be made. (And don't look at me; I think in words, not images!)
The film felt surprisingly self indulgent, as though she was using the camera (and thereby, the viewer) in lieu of a therapist, instead of making an honest effort to explore her own behavior and the possible cultural implications of it. I never got a sense for what exactly non monogamy meant to her, beyond the fact that it seemed to be the only way she could make a relationship last, and yet the viewer uninitiated into the benefits of polyamory would not find this a particularly compelling argument. And she likewise didn't explore why she might be interested in getting involved with men, after identifying as a lesbian for so long, other than that she wanted to enjoy her feminine side (which didn't entirely make sense to me -- can't one be feminine with another woman?) Serious speculation on the topic conveyed by the title of the film seemed conspicuously absent.
I was particularly struck while watching the film by the audience's reactions, which were not positive, especially when the film featured some of the men the film maker had become involved with. The lesbians in the crowd made their displeasure known both audibly, through whispers that bordered on "boos," and through a negative energy that was palpable. And the whispers didn't die down until the film was over, at which point I overheard people saying things to the effect that not only did the film maker need therapy, the speaker herself would need therapy to recover from the film. Several people commented on the film maker's lack of boundaries and obsessive processing without a hint of irony (given that these behaviors are common enough among lesbians to be part of the stereotype).
It was at that moment that I realized just how alienated I feel from lesbian culture, given that my recent experience and shift in identity pushes me beyond its outer edge. I've always been on the margins looking in, never quite fitting in, and have been OK with that, as I nevertheless felt that these were "my people," the people among whom I felt free to relax and be myself. And yet now I feel adrift in that uncharted territory known as "queer." At least that's a label that still fits. But the documentary that comes close to telling my version of the story has yet to be made. (And don't look at me; I think in words, not images!)