"Poor Things": Not Only Feminine, but Also Queer

In "Dogtooth" and "The Lobster," we got a taste of the charm of Yorgos Lanthimos' so-called social experiment sketches. In "Poor Things," the focus is on an experimental subject of "brain transplantation"—a female version of Frankenstein, Bella Baxter, whose child's brain is transplanted into her mother's corpse.

From the steampunk worldview to the vibrant and colorful sky, Lanthimos' bizarre aesthetics are omnipresent. Almost the entire film uses a fisheye lens, not only compressing space into an unconventional style but also distorting the human body at times, and even completely blurring outdoor scenery. The interspersed circular lens perspective, as if peering through a cat's eye, captures the characters in action.

Set in Victorian England of the 19th century, the synthesis of super-science creatures and their technology is breathtaking. Chickens and pigs, ducks and dogs, geese and goats... stroll through a distorted and bizarre mansion. Dr. Godwin Baxter, a skilled anatomist and experimenter with a grim scarred face, relies on an external distillation system to complete digestion, producing a large bubble every time he burps after a meal.

He has a beautiful, adopted daughter, Bella, "with the body of an adult and the mind of a child." Compared to people of the same era who adhere to etiquette, she has a more untamed nature. That's just how she is, a "poor thing."

Children and Young Women, Mothers and Prostitutes

Bella's existence forms a closed loop: she is a mother and a daughter, simultaneously neither a mother nor a daughter. She seems like the first "woman" to exist, with no origin and no destination. In this way, she was created by Dr. Godwin, but not in the clichéd sense of "Adam's rib." He simply gave her a new lease on life, foretelling her birth into a male-dominated world, yet she is a lively and independent individual. In Bella's life, there is Dr. Godwin as a father and educator, Max as a companion and observer, Duncan as a lover and tempter, and Alfie as a former partner and controller.

In their eyes, Bella has a "thousand faces": she possesses the innocence of a child but the beauty of a young woman, attracting the affection of Max and captivating Duncan, who has seen countless women. Many men's fantasies come to life: a body full of sexual charm paired with a "easily controllable" mind, like a blank slate.

However, Bella is by no means easy to control. After Duncan takes her out of the secluded mansion, her learning ability is exceptional. She dislikes conventional social etiquette, is not afraid to offend, and explores the world like a free spirit. Her indifferent attitude makes Duncan love and hate her, her lack of traditional modesty makes Duncan jealous to the point of violence, and her wild solo dance at the ball leaves her male partners with no choice but to be mere accessories.

Rather than saying he doesn't want to control her, it's more accurate to say that traditional methods have failed. He yells at her, accusing her of being a harlot and a monster, but she remains calm and disdainful of societal norms. He tries to emotionally manipulate her with alcohol, but she doesn't even understand what emotions are. He attempts to seduce her with physical pleasure, but she is bolder in matters of desire. He uses marriage as a shackle, but she points out that she may have run away, but she still has an awaiting fiancé.

When Duncan is affluent and tolerates her peculiar behavior, but when he loses money and Bella chooses to sell herself, his relied-upon sense of self-worth finally collapses. He discards the food she acquired through selling herself, takes her money, and leaves. When Bella enters the brothel, she finally becomes the most frightening yet enchanting figure for men: a prostitute. When Bella first appeared on the screen, she was a mother, embodying the so-called sacred motherhood, satisfying the Oedipus complex. The opposite of a mother is a prostitute, with alluring charm but belonging to no one.

Whether as a "mother" or a "prostitute," both are male sexualized fantasies, but Bella serves not the sexuality of men but her own.

Her Awakening Alongside Sexual Exploration

After her first outing, Bella lies on the bed, her expression alternating between convulsions and ecstasy. Seated at the dining table, she uses an apple (coincidentally, the same "apple" from the Bible) as a tool to seek pleasure. Previously, Bella played with food, excreted anywhere, seemingly mimicking Freud's oral and anal stages. Now, she reaches between her legs, signaling a shift in her attention to sexual organs.

Why is sex important? The budding of sexuality is frequently depicted in texts about boys' growth, such as "Jia Baoyu's first experience of amorous feelings" in "Dream of the Red Chamber." On the contrary, as Foucault's "The History of Sexuality" suggests, female sexuality is often hidden. Women are described in countless male-centric texts as either harlots or saints, but few works delve into "her" feelings, experiences, and explorations. It's also challenging to imagine a feminist film where the protagonist still adheres to traditional sexual norms, such as foot-binding.

In two representative films this year, "Barbie Hemmer" features the highly sexualized Barbie talking about "sex," yet everything remains ambiguous between "boyfriend/girlfriend," despite Barbie and Ken's power struggles and sexual connections. In contrast, "Auburn Hemmer" presents unrelated explicit nude scenes, enriching the character through her body.

Because sex is a man's game. Bella can indulge with Duncan, but when Duncan admits his inability to continue, and Bella suggests it might be a male physiological defect, Duncan's awkward smile reveals the unchallengeable side of the male sexual world. Bella's intimate moments with the woman Toinette in the brothel challenge the heterosexual world. When Bella, in search of her lost self/mother Victoria, has her ex-husband attempt to castrate her, depriving her of joy and sensory stimulation sources.

Because pleasure belongs solely to the individual, almost like subjectivity. No one can feel it for me; only this happiness is real and absolutely mine. In a sense, director Lanthimos might have simply transplanted a male model of sexual exploration onto Bella, and her reactions, especially her attempts to experience more pleasure in the brothel, seem somewhat surreal. This portrayal downplays the exploitation of her body by others and attributes everything to Bella's free will and subjective desires.

It can be imagined that whether it's Duncan's kidnapping or the inequality brought by selling herself in the brothel, where she can't choose partners, lacks communication, and involves monetary transactions, none of it can be an ideal modern sense of sex, not to mention the risks of disease and pregnancy. The director presents sexual exploration as an important part of Bella's experiences, portraying it with ease, comfort, and freedom, aligning with the sexual liberation trend in the history of the women's movement. However, it is not without the stereotyped imagination of the male perspective.

Not Only Feminine, but Also Queer

Even as a feminist film, this movie cannot make everyone comfortable. Not all feminists can relate Bella's growth to their awakening, especially Bella's experiences in prostitution. Whether the director's understanding of female awakening is narrow or a bold chapter in sexual liberation, it will also be controversial. Rather than imagining "The Poor Things" solely as a women's narrative, I prefer to consider it as a queer text.

Bella's assigned gender is female because she has the body of an adult woman. When referring to the fetus from which Bella's thoughts originate, the baby's gender is never emphasized. In the process of transitioning from childlike thinking to a mature individual socialized in so-called civilized society, Bella's thoughts and values appear out of place. She does not smoothly adapt to this society but maintains an "abnormality" in exaggerated abruptness.

She should be dressed in gorgeous gowns, but under puff sleeves, she wears shorts that reveal her legs. This peculiar attire is her formalwear, akin to a form of drag. She is also like Orlando. In Woolf's time, praise for poets and writers was "androgynous," but now we can identify it as not only feminine but beyond feminine.

From babbling to articulate self-expression, to the final stage of socialization, Bella still embodies not the refined lady society expects but herself. Her socialization does not involve losing herself. Instead, she becomes a distinct character: a female doctor who can communicate and empathize. Her union with her same-sex friend Toinette is not surprising for the perennially rebellious Bella—she continually experiments and embraces everything. In the end, they come together in the grand mansion where Bella practices medicine, continuing their exploration and progress.

This is a story of women's history, perhaps still atypical, but women's history should never be typical. This is a queer tale.