Friday, November 7, 2014

Sleeping Beauty Review: Not your Disney Version

Emily Browning as the "Sleeping Beauty"
Sleeping Beauty, the 2011 Australian drama, is a provocative film that explores gender, class, and sexuality in a unique narrative.  Lucy is a struggling college student attempting to make ends meet.  Like most college students, Lucy has multiple jobs.  However, minimum wa
ge is not enough to make rent so she capitalizes on her body by exchanging sex for money.  What makes this film unique is the company she involves herself in.  Answering an ad in the paper, Lucy is hired to cater exclusive and elite dinner parties….in her lingerie.  My first reaction: is this what rich people do with their time and money?  As someone who has never had much money it baffles my mind when excess waste is done by the rich.  But the more pressing matter is that of female agency and male domination. 

First, “Sleeping Beauty” is not just a title, but a metaphor for female passivity.  The world, at large, expects women to adhere to certain, universally accepted, stereotypes.  Such stereotypes include a demur, soft-spoken, “good girl” behavior.  Historically, women’s bodies have always been considered property.  Even after society, in shifting their mindset to adapt to changing times, accepting a woman as her own person not only disrupted, but threatened the status quo.  What the film shows is, regardless of milestone victories that favored women, their bodies have always been, and continue to be lucrative commodities. 

Selling sex, whether legal or illegal, is a billion dollar business that perpetuates what Naomi Wolfe calls “The Beauty Myth.”  A woman’s value in society, today, is reflected in the value of her looks.  A youthful body of a woman becomes the property of society, and by default the property of men.  But this type of property value is driven by capitalism.  Money is imperative to survival and Lucy does what she can, in her circumstance, to survive.  One way she does is become a “Sleeping Beauty.”  She gets paid, in freelance opportunity, to go under a sedated state while wealthy clients pay to spend the night with her.  A precept explained by the madam to each punter (there are three in total during the film.  All of whom are in old age) states a no penetration policy. 

My fascination with this kind of business is not the selling of sex, but that in the desired motionless acquiescence of the female body.  Lucy’s full participation is not needed or even required for the punters.  Though there is no penetration allowed, the close, intimate touching of Lucy’s body indicates a sense of control and domination exerted over the female body. Even her name change – Sara – is a strong indication that her identity is not her own regardless of her involvement, and that she must be stripped, both figuratively and literally, of her personhood. This brings me to my second point: total masculine supremacy as the ultimate appeal. 

The first punter, before he begins his session, looks to the madam and explains a long, drawn out story – bordering on drivel – how he did very little to cherish the things in his life.  I was looking for a philosophical meaning for his choice, but what I found in his gibberish is a mindless justification for his eccentric payment.  The camera focused on the old man as he broke the fourth wall to center his attention directly at the audience.  I suspect this was done so that we could empathize with him, but it induced nothing in me that had me convinced the circumstances involved were justified.  However, the madam tells him, “You are safe here.  There is no shame here.  No one can see you.”    This is done to validate the old man’s choice.   

The madam, in her own words, gives permission for the old man to take ownership of the “Sleeping Beauty.”  In doing so, the madam invites the audience to do the same, as if the masculinity of the audience also hinges on this archaic notion of domination.  I find the fact a woman – the madam – condoning the violation of another woman, compelling.  It is as if she, speaking for all women, is pardoning the sexual prowess of these older men that with their wealth and privilege buy back their manhood when they buy time with an immobile female body. 

The third punter attempts to lift Lucy in his arms as if he is carrying her over a threshold.  I interpret this as his attempt to prove his masculine worth.  His manhood hinges on his ability to show strength.  Yet, it becomes clear, as he drops Lucy to the floor he is not the same man as he was in his youth, and thus failing to confirm his machismo nobility.  Nothing more is shown of him. 

The second punter, which I kept for last, is a fascinating, but scary subject.  His expression of masculinity is more aggressive and violent.  His verbally abusive tone suggests a type of domination that is more pervasive and common in society.  Men like the third punter desperately try to hold on to their power and sexual aptitude, especially as they age, by exerting brutal and savage behaviors.  In his scene the third punter not only burns Lucy with a cigarette – something that is against the rules – but since he is not allowed to penetrate her vaginally or anally, he violates her by inserting his fingers in her mouth as he calls her a slew of pejorative words.  Lucy is no longer a “Sleeping Beauty” but an object of this man’s verbal and physical abuse, and she is unable to participate or consent as most sex workers might be able to.


Filmmakers tries to push the envelope when it comes to blurring the lines between sexual pleasure and rape, and or what constitutes as sex work, but it is safe to say that the lack of consent of the “Sleeping Beauty,” despite pursuing this unorthodox job herself, she is nothing more than a vessel for patriarchal entitlement.   The film, itself, is worth the watch; its slow pace and drawn out shots linger to give the audience a sense of Lucy’s slow progression as she navigates through her journey.  I enjoyed the film, and suggest it as one of my Netflix picks.  

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