Scopophilic Pleasure and Gender Identity in Being John Malkovich

Since the early 1970’s feminist critics and theorists have debated and analyzed the

idea of film spectatorship. Most of these feminist writings are rooted in Freud’s

psychoanalytic theories and revolve around the idea of scopophilia, or pleasure in

looking. Some argue that it is impossible for a female viewer to be a true spectator of

film due to the patriarchal nature of the industry that constantly projects women on the

screen as passive objects that merely receive the gaze of the male characters, viewers and

camera, without ever returning that gaze (Laura Mulvey, 1975). Other theorists argue

that a woman can receive scopophilic pleasure from film, but that this is only possible if

the female spectator employs a form of transgendered spectatorship (Mulvey, 1989; Ann

Kaplan, 1983). Still others argue that it is impossible for a female character to be

anything but passive and, in a sense, sightless, in a conventional Hollywood narrative

(Mary Ann Doane, 1981). But is this always the case? Is it possible for a film that was

both written and directed by a man and produced within the studio system to be satisfying

in term of spectatorial pleasure for a female audience? In this paper I will discuss some

of the major theoretical perspectives of spectatorship in film, applying them to one film

in particular, Being John Malkovich. I will argue that through its portrayal of issues of

gender identity, this film not only encourages female spectatorial pleasure, but that it also

effectively illustrates some of the issues of feminist film theory that have been debated

for decades.

Literature

Before delving into an analysis of the 1999 film Being John Malkovich, it is

important to discuss the theoretical basis of spectatorship of film. Often in this paper I

will be referring to the concept of “the gaze”. This concept is a product of the Women’s

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Movement of the 1970’s and what was, at the time, a fledgling area of film criticism

known as feminist film theory. The concept itself is deeply rooted in Freudian

psychoanalytic theory and the work of Christian Metz, Jacques Lacan and Jean-Louis

Baudry. However, the birth of the gaze must be attributed to a 1975 article appearing in

Screen titled “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema”, written by Laura Mulvey.

Mulvey, a film critic, director and theoretician, wrote her groundbreaking article

in 1973, but it was not published until two years later at the height of the debate over

what feminist film theory actually was. At the time the article was written, feminist film

theory dwelled in the study of “women’s films”, or films that were produced for a

predominantly female audience (Molly Haskell, 1974). Writers and researchers focused

on the fixed and repeated images of women as objectionable distortions, asserting that

these unrealistic images have a negative impact on the female spectator. Both semiotic

and psychoanalytic theories were used to conceptualize the power of this patriarchal

imagery (Smelik, 1999).

Also at this time in history, Claire Johnston (1973) became one of the first

feminist film critics to offer a sustained critique of stereotypes from a semiotic point of

view. Johnston drew on Barthes’ notion of “myth”, investigating the myth of “woman”

in film (Smelik, 1999). Johnston argued that the ideological meaning of woman is empty

in relation to herself. Rather, women are negatively represented as “not-man” in film

(Johnston, 1973). Woman as woman is absent from the text of film (Smelik, 1999).

Mulvey’s article, however, changed the direction of feminist film theory. In

“Visual and Other Pleasures” (1975), Mulvey focused on the concept of scopophilia.

Scopophilia, literally meaning “pleasure in looking”, is a term from Freudian theory that

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is named as one of the primary sexual drives in humans. Along with this pleasure in

looking comes ego identification with the object. In the arena of the cinema, the pleasure

and ego identification come from an object on the screen. This cinematic object of

pleasurable looking, according to Mulvey, is always the female. It is the female in film

onto which male characters project their “fantastic gaze”, as does the camera, and in turn,

the audience (Mulvey, 1975). Thus, the cinematic gaze is three-fold in nature. The

female in the film is the object of attention of three separate entities, the male actor, the

cinematic appartatus and the spectators in the theatre (Mulvey, 1975). According to

Mulvey, women have traditionally played an exhibitionist role, simultaneously being

looked at and displayed (Mulvey, 1975). Mulvey characterizes this phenomenon as the

“to-be-looked-at-ness” of the woman. Whereas the man’s role in the film is to advance

the story and dialogue, the female role is to be a passive inspiration for the male

characters’ action. This causes a split between the active male and the passive female in

film (Mulvey, 1975).

Mulvey’s article forever changed the direction of feminist film criticism, in a

sense homogenizing the field of inquiry. Some would say Mulvey’s work was the basis

for a positive focusing of the work of feminist critics, zeroing in on the role of women

from a psychoanalytic perspective, and in terms of character motivation and narrative

progression. However, critics would argue Mulvey’s work stifled the field and caused an

overemphasis on the stringent nature of her position that women are always the symbolic

incarnation of the Oedipal castration threat. In fact, Mulvey has since written that her

original article was meant to “articulate rather than originate, to catch something of the

interests and ideas that were already around in the air, within the changing context that

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the Women’s Movement and its aftermath provided.” (Mulvey, 1989). Mulvey

downplays her role in the history of feminist theory, but in reality, Mulvey’s ideas and

concepts have been cited in hundreds of research papers and critical essays over the last

twenty-five years.

It is, indeed, important to understand Mulvey’s stance that the gaze is borne of the

psychoanalytic paradox of phallocentrism. Mulvey writes that a woman’s role in film is

two-fold. First, woman symbolizes the castration threat. Secondly, the woman raises her

child in what Mulvey calls, “the symbolic”, in which she turns her child into the signifier

of her own desire to possess a penis (Mulvey, 1975). Therefore, in patriarchal culture,

the woman is a signifier of the male other and is seen as a bearer, not a maker, of

meaning (Mulvey, 1975). This mirrors Mulvey’s idea that women in film are passive,

while males are active. Women in film are merely vessels to receive the gaze of the male

character, the audience and the camera, while simultaneously being displayed for

scopophilic pleasure of the male spectators.

In fact, Mulvey’s theory of the male gaze left no room for the concept of the

female gaze. This has been a matter of much debate in the past few decades. Is it

possible for the female figure in film to possess the gaze? Teresa de Lauretis (1984;

1987) is one feminist theorist whose ideas were borne from Mulvey’s 1975 essay. De

Lauretis’ “Oedipus Interruptus” was published in 1984 as a chapter in her book Alice

Doesn’t: Feminism, Semiotics, Cinema (de Lauretis, 1984). It is de Lauretis’ assertion

that the cinema solicits complicity of female spectators in a desire whose terms are those

of Oedipus (DeLauretis, 1984). DeLauretis reiterates the idea that in narrative cinema all

looks converge on the female figure. Woman is framed by the look of the camera as

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icon; an image made to be looked at by the spectator as well as the male character(s)

(DeLauretis, 1984). What DeLauretis adds to the concept of the gaze is her assessment

of how a female spectator can be entertained by this framing of the female. Her writing

discusses the idea that women spectators’ cannot be assumed to be single or simple

(1984) She implies that women belong to a common group, but that we are still

individuals with differences as well as similarities. Therefore, it is impossible to

generalize about members of any given sex. Furthermore, de Lauretis states that no one

can see themselves as an inert object and a sightless body, as implied by Mulvey (1984)

Women, after all, have an ego, too (de Lauretis, 1984). For this reason, de Lauretis’

position is that films must seduce women into femininity. The female subject identifies

with the narrative, even though it is Oedipal in nature. According to de Lauretis, “for a

film…to please its audiences or at least induce them to buy the ticket…it has to please.

All films must offer their spectators some kind of pleasure, something of interest, be it a

technical, artistic, critical interest, or the kind of pleasure that goes by the names of

entertainment and escape” (de Lauretis, 1984). For de Lauretis, identification is itself a

movement, a subject-process, a relation (Smelik, 1999).

Kaja Silverman is another author influenced by Mulvey’s work. However,

Silverman (1988) asserts that the viewer, whether male or female, identifies with the look

of the male protagonist. Although Silverman writes of the existence of a female gaze,

she asserts that the gaze is only partial and flawed, seeing things that aren’t there and

succumbing to paranoia and delusions (Silverman, 1988).

Mary Ann Doane (1981; 1991) is another feminist theorist who has written about

the concept of the gaze in film. Doane’s article “Caught and Rebecca: The Inscription of

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Femininity As Absence” furthered the ideas perpetuated by Mulvey, arguing that so-

called women’s films of the1940’s were neither the possession of women, nor were their

terms of address dictated by the presence of a female spectator (Doane, 1981). Doane

states that any attempt to produce a film that does not reduce the female to a passive role

is impossible in conventional Hollywood narratives. Although some films include what

appear to be strong female roles in which the characters dare to look for themselves, by

the end of the film the women have been marginalized and reduced to a passive role. In

fact, the gaze seemingly appropriated by the women in these two specific films, is

represented as chaotic, confused and paranoid (Doane, 1981). Doane argues that these

qualities are the result of the confusion between subjectivity and objectivity, or the

struggle between internal and external (Doane, 1981).

Another of Doane’s arguments revolves around voyeurism. She argues that the

female spectator lacks the necessary distance to find voyeuristic pleasure in her

spectatorship, because there is not distance between the female and the image. The

female is the image. Therefore, there is an “overwhelming presence-to-itself of the

female body” (Doane, 1981). Doane believes that the female spectator is consumed by

the image rather than consuming it (Smelik, 1999). To avoid this, however, the female

spectator can use masquerade to effectively distance herself from the image, thus wearing

femininity as a mask (Doane, 1981).

Laura Mulvey herself began to rethink her original conception of the gaze in the

1980’s, writing her follow up to “Visual and Other Pleasures” titled “Afterthoughts on

‘Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema’ inspired by King Vidor’s Duel in the Sun”. In

this article, Mulvey defends her original stance on “the gaze”, but addresses female

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spectatorship. Mulvey (1989) suggests that the female spectator identifies with the

passive femininity programmed for her, but is also able to receive enjoyment by adopting

the masculine point of view. Mulvey writes, “…the ‘grammar’ of the story places the

reader, listener or spectator with the hero. The woman spectator in the cinema can make

use of an age-old cultural tradition adapting her to this convention, which eases a

transition out of her own sex into another” (Mulvey, 1989). Mulvey goes on to state,

“Three elements can thus be drawn together: Freud’s concept of ‘masculinity’ in

women, the identification triggered by the logic of a narrative grammar, and the
ego’s desire to fantasise itself in a certain, active, manner. All three suggest that,
as desire is given cultural materiality in a text, for women (from childhood
onwards) trans-sex identification is a habit that very easily become second nature.
However, this Nature does not sit easily and shifts restlessly in its borrowed
transvestite clothes.” (Mulvey, 1989)

In fact, the concept of masquerade was introduced by Claire Johnston in 1975 in her

analysis of Anne of the Indies. In this 1951 film, the female character used cross-

dressing to masquerade as a male pirate. Johnston asserted that the female masquerade

signified not only a masking but also an, ‘unmasking’ in the deconstructionist sense of

exposing and criticizing. (Johnston, 1975; Smelik, 2002)

Ann Kaplan (1983) added new life to the concept of female spectatorship by

asserting that female characters can indeed possess the gaze, even making the male

characters objects of this look. However, being a woman, the gaze and the woman’s

desire has no power behind it, rendering it useless. Kaplan argues that the only way a

female character can own and activate the gaze is to be in a masculine position of power.

(Kaplan, 1983)

Even in the study of horror film, a genre that has long had the label of being a

misogynistic-leaning enterprise, critics have investigated the idea of spectatorship and

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masquerade. Carol Clover (1992) is one theorist who argues that both female and male

spectators identify bisexually. Clover writes about what she calls the “final girl” in

horror films. It is this female heroine of the film is the one who fights, resists and

survives the psychopath-killer-monster (Clover, 1992). In doing so, the final girl

acquires the gaze, dominates the action and is thus, masculinized. Due to the fact the

audience for horror films is predominantly male, the male spectator is forced to identify

with the woman’s fear and pain. Therefore, Clover argues that this bisexual

identification can apply to both male and female spectators (Clover, 1992).

Work by Gaylyn Studlar calls Mulvey's original conception of "the gaze" into

question. In her 1985 article "Masochism and the Perverse Pleasures of Cinema", Studlar

proposes an alternative approach to feminist theory. Whereas Mulvey focuses on the

phallic phase of childhood development, Studlar focuses on the pregenital period

(Studlar, 1992). Studlar refers to the earlier model popularized by Mulvey as "sadistic"

while her model can be seen as "masochistic". What this means is Studlar focuses on the

role of the "oral mother" rather than Oedipal conflicts. By doing so, the primary figure of

identification and power in filmic texts shifts from the male patriarch to the woman as

mother (Studlar, 1992). Women are powerful in their own right because they possess

what the man lacks, the breast and the womb. Rather than seeing female as "lack", from

Studlar's point of view, it is the male who "lacks" (Studlar, 1992).

In addititon, Studlar goes so far as to call Mulvey's polarized model of the gaze

"her blind spot" (Studlar, 1992). For Studlar, the masculine look actually contains

passive elements that sometimes signify submission rather than possession of the female

(Studlar, 1992). Whereas other theorists believe women can appropriate the look only

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through a sort of cross-dressing or transgendered experience (Butler, 1990; Mulvey,

1989; Modleski, 1997), Studlar’s masochistic view is not limited to enjoyment by the

male. Pregenital pleasures are equal for the male and the female, therefore a woman need

not abandon her feminine identity (Studlar, 1985).

Judith Mayne is another one of the authors who has questioned Mulvey’s work.

In Mayne’s "Paradoxes of Spectatorship" she argues that if indeed the cinematic

apparatus is as saturated with Oedipal desire and Freudian precepts as believed by

Mulvey and others, then the history of the cinema is made up of mere variations on a

single theme (Mayne, 1995). Mayne asserts that cinematic spectatorship can work in a

number of ways, dependent on three main ideas. Those ideas are address and reception,

fantasy, and negotiation (1995). Mayne’s first criticism of traditional feminist film theory

is the assumption that the spectator is assigned a position of coherence by the cinematic

apparatus. Mayne believes this assertion denies the spectator any flexibility in

observation and thought processing (1995) Rather than an "ideal" viewer, Mayne

reminds us that there is always room for unexpected and non-homogenous reception

based on a viewer’s individual characteristics (1995) Mayne goes on to argue that

fantasy and its structure also point to the fact that the spectator role must not always be

male. Instead, Mayne agrees that the fantasies are homogenous structures (for example,

sexuality, castration, differences between the sexes), but we interpret these fantasies

uniquely as individuals (1995) Furthermore, Mayne suggests that rather than classifying

all viewers and film into stringent categories of dominant/oppositional or passive/active,

it is preferable to designate all reading as negotiated (1995)

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Ussher (1997) agrees that the gaze "reifies the social position" of man within the

traditional script of heterosexuality. However, she argues that, just as women have

resisted the "Prince Charming" fairly tales of our culture, they have actively

"reformulated and resisted the archetypal ’masculine gaze’ in cinema (1997) Lorraine

Gamman (1989) argues that women spectators may reject the male gaze and, instead,

identify with a female gaze they "read" in mainstream media narratives . Arbuthnot and

Seneca (1990) also challenge feminist film research that concentrates on "male paradigms

and male pleasure, even if only to challenge them…" (1990). Brenda Cooper (2000)

asserts in her article written on the film Thelma & Louise that Hollywood films can,

indeed, represent a female gaze, or "appropriation" of the male gaze. It is upon this

conceptual foundation that I will use feminist theories of film spectatorship to analyze the

innovative 1999 film Being John Malkovich. I will focus on issues of gender identity as

they relate to spectatorship and representation within the film’s narrative structure.

Being John Malkovich

Being John Malkovich marks the feature film directorial debut of thirty-year-old

Spike Jonze, as well as the first screenplay from newcomer Charlie Kaufman. Jonze was,

up until this point, better known as the director of quirky, award-winning music videos

(Weezer’s “Buddy Holly”, Wax’s “California”, Fat Boy Slim’s “Praise You” just to name

a few) and flashy television commercials (such as Levi’s “Tainted Love”- operating room

spot and Nike’s Agassi/Sampras tennis match that takes place in the middle of an urban

intersection). However, despite the film’s unconventional subject matter and oddball

script, Jonze rejects the urge to go overboard. As Dennis Lim of The Village Voice

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writes, “Jonze directs with a poker face that sneakily downplays the relentless forward

motion and renders the underlying sense of mischief doubly anarchic” (Lim, 1999).

This off-beat dark comedy revolves around the lives of the 30-something husband

and wife Craig and Lotte Schwartz. Craig is a frustrated street puppeteer (played by John

Cusack) with a ponytail, shy demeanor and a severe lack of interpersonal skills. Lotte

(Cameron Diaz in a bad wig) works at a pet store, but has turned their small apartment

into a home for wayward animals, including an iguana, a parrot, a dog, and a chimp

named Elijah who is apparently suffering from acid stomach brought on by childhood

trauma (according to his chimp-psychiatrist). While Lotte showers her animals with

affection, Craig spends much of his time in the basement, practicing his puppeteering

skills with dolls that look strikingly similar to he and Lotte. During the day, Craig

performs erotically charged versions of Abelard and Heloise on city street corners for

spare change. However, his career is cut short by an angry parent whose young daughter

stops to watch the show. As Craig says, “consciousness is a terrible curse. I raise

issues”.

Lotte persuades Craig to find a real job, upon which Craig puts his nimble fingers

to use as a file clerk on floor 7 ½ of a Manhattan office building. The floor upon which

Craig’s new employer Lester Corp. is located is literally a half floor with low ceilings

that cause the employees to constantly walk hunched over. Several jokes about the “low

overhead” of working in such an environment ensue.

On Craig’s first day he meets Maxine (Catherine Keener), a beautiful, self-

confident woman who works on the same floor. Craig is instantly struck by the woman

and tries to win her over with awkward compliments and small talk. Maxine has no

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interest whatsoever in Craig, going so far as to tell him, “If you ever got me, you

wouldn’t have a clue what to do with me.” Early on in the film, we are already seeing

Maxine as the dominant, controlling figure. This is a role traditionally played by a male

character in films. Although Maxine’s character at times reverts to the stereotype of the

condescending bitch, she is the character that acts. She is also a female character who

seems to possess “the gaze”. It is Maxine who looks Craig up and down, while Craig,

though physically attracted to Maxine, has a hard time maintaining eye contact with her.

She is not just an inert object that inspires action. Although she does inspire change in

both Craig and later Lotte, she is always an active presence in the film.

At home, Craig retreats to his basement studio where he reworks conversations

with Maxine. He’s now built a Maxine-doll that he uses in these scenes, retiring the

Lotte-doll to a spot where it hangs on the wall. During these private puppet shows Craig

is eloquent as he explains the allure of puppeteering, explaining that, “perhaps it’s the

idea of becoming someone else for a little while. Being inside another skin. Thinking

differently. Moving differently. Feeling differently.” It is this line that really sums up

the idea behind this entire film. As we find out later, everyone in the film, with the

exception of Maxine, seems to be tired of the person they are. They all are still searching

for their true identity, or at least trying to find the path that will lead them to the person

that they could be. It seems that every character in the film has aspirations for an identity

that is being kept from them due to any number of circumstances. I assert that one of

those major roadblocks is gender. Or, more specifically, traditional gender roles and

stereotypes.

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It is also possible to apply Craig’s quote to the idea of the spectator experiencing

life vicariously through the work of the actors on screen. As audience members of a film,

we are able to feel the emotions of these characters that are presented to us on the screen.

At times it may be just escapism or entertainment, while at other times this film-viewing

experience may even reach the level of catharsis for some. The point is, that by watching

movies, we are swept up into the lives of imaginary characters, allowing us to relate in

some way to the scenarios we view. However, some would argue, including many of the

film theorists mentioned earlier, that we don’t all experience film the same way.

Furthermore, the differences in spectatorial pleasure, it is argued, may be broken down by

gender. Therefore, Jonze and Kaufman may be using Being John Malkovich as a means

of escaping the traditional gendered spectatorship one finds in the typical Hollywood

film.

In real life, Maxine dismisses Craig’s “art”, telling him she could never be

involved with a man who “plays with dolls”. Again, the film addresses the issues of

traditional gender roles. Maxine’s character has taken on masculine characteristics in the

fact that she is the one in the film who takes action, while Craig mostly just lives in a

fantasy world. Craig is seen by Maxine as overly feminine due to his inaction, as is

exemplified in the way she positions him with the “dolls” remark. Besides the zingers

she’s already aimed at Craig questioning his manhood, she also calls him a “fag” at a

local bar in front of a group of men. While he is trying to be polite and sensitive in his

own inept way, trying to convince her he is interested in her as a person not just a sex

object, she isn’t satisfied until he blurts out an inappropriate sexual remark that sounds

like something out of a stag film.

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The story progresses with Maxine continuing to ignore Craig’s advances. Then

one fateful day, Craig drops a file folder behind a cabinet in the office. While retrieving

it, he discovers a small wooden door leading to a narrow, murky tunnel. Unbeknownst to

Craig, he has stumbled upon a portal. A portal that leads from Lester Corp. to the brain

of John Malkovich. Soon Craig is crawling on his hands and knees, drawn inexplicably

deeper into the muddy passageway. Suddenly, he is sucked forward into the portal and is

soon looking through the eyes of John Malkovich. For fifteen minutes (Andy Warhol did

predict we would all experience fame for 15 minutes) Craig experiences life through

another man’s eyes and then, just as abruptly as he arrived, he is spit out on the side of

the New Jersey turnpike. Craig rushes back from his journey to tell Maxine all about it.

When Craig sees Maxine he is brimming with excitement, but he also begins questioning

the ethical and metaphysical implications of his new discovery. He questions what this

portal means in terms of the nature of self and the existence of a soul. “Am I me?” Craig

asks.

At this point in the film we are confronted with some of the issues of

spectatorship that are dealt with in feminist film theory. Craig is a man, a male spectator,

literally seeing through the eyes of a male film actor. Although he is shaken and

confused by the experience, and even envigorated by it, it is not a completely new

experience for him. As a male, suddenly finding himself looking through the eyes of

another man, it doesn’t completely turn his world upside down. For Craig, the real

change has to do with gender identity rather than sex itself. While Craig inhabits

Malkovich’s body for those 15 minutes, no truly earth-shattering actions take place.

Malkovich is merely eating toast, looking at himself in the mirror on his way out the

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door, and then he hails a taxi. However, these mundane activities are done with an air of

confidence and perhaps even a hint of entitlement, which Craig has never experienced.

When Malkovich gazes into the mirror at his own reflection, he is satisfied with what he

sees. Although he could not be characterized as a terribly handsome man, certainly not

the typical “Hollywood Hunk”, he is not insecure about his appearance. In contrast,

Craig walks somewhat hunched over at all times (not just while on floor 7 ½) with his

long hair obscuring his face. In fact, his Craig-puppet often performs a dance of

disillusionment in which he looks into the mirror at his face and then smashes the mirror,

ashamed of his own reflection.

When Craig returns to tell Maxine about his incredible experience she has no

interest in participating in this body-swapping enterprise. In fact, Maxine seems to be the

only character in this film who is truly content living in her own skin. Instead, she sees

the portal as a money-making opportunity. “Is this Malkovich guy appealing?” Maxine

asks Craig. “Of course. He’s a celebrity.” Craig replies. This brings up another motif of

this film. That is, the lure of celebrity and the somewhat morose obsession people have

with learning even the most mundane details of celebrities’ lives. Although this is an

important theme, it is not one I will be pursuing in great detail in this paper.

When Craig returns home he tell Lotte about his discovery. She’s disbelieving,

but decides she wants to try it for herself. Lotte crawls into the portal and is soon looking

through the eyes of Malkovich. Unlike Craig who was perplexed but not completely

changed by the experience, Lotte is forever altered by the sensation of being inside a

man’s body. Malkovich is just toweling off after a shower when Lotte arrives in his

body. She giggles with excitement talking about how good she feels, later exclaiming, “I

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feel sexy!” When she is dumped out at the side of the expressway at the end of her

fifteen minutes, she wants to immediately go back and experience the thrill again.

“Being inside did something to me. I knew who I was.” Lotte explains to Craig. “But

you weren’t you. You were John Malkovich.” Craig retorts. Lotte goes on to laud her

experience later that same night saying, “It’s kinda sexy that John Malkovich has a portal.

It’s like he has a vagina. Like he has a penis and a vagina. Sorta like Malkovich’s

feminine side.” Craig is too preoccupied with Maxine to give any credence to Lotte's

theories, but Lotte is determined to revisit Malkovich. In fact, she does go back for

another Malkovich experience. When she returns, she barges into the office where

Maxine and Craig are plotting their advertising for the portal and tells Craig that she has

decided that she is a transsexual. Although she admits it sounds crazy, she reassures

Craig that, "for the first time everything felt right". Craig argues with her, but Lotte is

determined to reenter the portal. She tells Craig not to stand in the way of her

actualization as a man. He believes it is "just a phase".

When Lotte reenters Malkovich via the portal she experiences something new. A

female "fan" (Maxine, unknown to Lotte) calls and asks him out on a date. Lotte repeats

over and over, "meet her there, meet her there, meet her there," trying to will Malkovich

to go to the restaurant. Malkovich has reservations, but decides to go, unaware that the

little voice in his head is actually that of another person. When Maxine shows up at the

restaurant, Lotte is pleasantly surprised. She is attracted to Maxine and vice versa.

Maxine made the date knowing Lotte would be inside of him. During their drinks

Maxine gazes at Malkovich. Not only does she possess the gaze and use it to her

advantage by looking at a male character, she is also gazing, indirectly, at Lotte. Lotte

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remarks, "I’ve never been looked at this way by a woman before." Again, under the

premise of many feminist film theories of spectatorship, this is absolutely true. Although

female characters are routinely gazed upon by male characters, the camera and the

audience, they are never looked at by other female characters. To do so would suggest

that female characters possess the ability and power to gaze. This is just another example

of how this film breaks the rules of gendered spectatorship.

Later, Maxine is visiting the Schwartz’ apartment to talk more about the portal. It

is clear that both Craig and Lotte are in love with Maxine. After dinner, both of them

attempt to kiss her at the same time. Maxine has no interest in Craig and tells him so.

She admits to Lotte that she is attracted to her. She sensed her "feminine longing" while

she was with Malkovich. However, Maxine won’t let Lotte touch her unless she’s inside

Malkovich. With this scene the film comments on the importance of the physiology of

gender. Maxine is not interested in Lotte physically unless she inhabits the body of a

man. This is not to say she doesn’t have feelings for Lotte. Maxine just cannot come to

grips with loving another woman. In fact, it seems apparent throughout this film that

Maxine has problems with intimacy in any form. Perhaps another one of her

stereotypically masculine characteristics.

At the same time, the film investigates more fully the idea of spectatorship and

gender roles. As a woman who possesses the gaze, Maxine takes on somewhat masculine

characteristics. Lotte is a woman who does not possesses the power of the gaze in her

natural physical form. By inhabiting Malkovich’s body, Lotte and Maxine are on equal

footing. Both have power. Without the male physical shell, Lotte is not on the same

playing field as Maxine.

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Later the next day, Maxine makes love to Malkovich while Lotte is inside. "I

love you Lotte", Maxine coos lovingly while she straddles Malkovich. Lotte walks away

from the experience convinced that she is meant to be a man. She tells Craig she is

leaving him. She has a vague plan to try to stay inside Malkovich, but doesn’t seem to

know how to accomplish this. All she knows is that she is in love with Maxine and is

sure she was meant to be a man.

Craig responds with violence. He gets a gun, attacks Lotte and locks her in one of

the animal cages in their apartment. He then enters the portal to rendez-vous with

Maxine. At first Maxine doesn’t realize that it is Craig inside Malkovich, but after

several encounters, Lotte escapes from captivity and phones Maxine to tell her what’s

been going on. Rather than reacting with admonition of Craig’s actions, Maxine is

intrigued. Maxine has a choice to make. Will it be love or control? Maxine opts for

control. Although she has feelings for Lotte, she is impressed with Craig’s control over

the Malkovich body. Not only has he been able to stay inside the portal for longer and

longer periods of time, he has also learned to make Malkovich move. The next time she

meets with Malkovich, she knows Craig is inside and confronts him. In response Craig

not only moves Malkovich the way he wants him to, he goes one step further by making

him speak. It is at this point that Maxine and Craig decide that they will keep things this

way forever. For Craig the benefit is that he now takes the form of a celebrity and can use

that fame to further his puppeteering career. For Maxine, she controls Craig, who

controls Malkovich, who has an inherent form of power as a celebrity.

As the film progresses, Craig and Maxine live together as husband and wife.

Craig parlays Malkovich’s fame into a revival of popularity of puppetry, while Maxine

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gets to live a life of wealth and fame. Despite it all, Maxine is unhappy…and pregnant.

In a twist of events, Maxine is kidnapped by Lotte and a group of elderly people who see

the Malkovich portal as a passageway to everlasting life. For her safe return Craig

promises to leave the Malkovich body. However, when he does, he finds that Maxine has

decided to stay with Lotte. Her time spent with Craig/Malkovich seemed to teach her the

value of love and the unimportance of physical appearance and gender. She admits to

Lotte that the baby she's carrying is hers. She was impregnated while Lotte was inside

Malkovich.

The three stand at the side of the New Jersey turnpike, muddy and wet. Lotte and

Maxine hitch a ride and drive off, stranding Craig at the side of the road. The film ends

with Maxine, Lotte and their five-year old daughter poolside. The two women sit and

laugh enjoying an ordinary day. Their daughter walks toward the pool and turns back to

look at her two mothers. The women gaze back at their daughter. Then the camera takes

the perspective as seen through the little girl's eyes. We hear Craig's voice as he pleads,

"Look away, look away." We are lead to believe that somehow Craig has found a portal

to the little girl, which gives us a completely new perspective on spectatorship. For the

first time, a male character is gazing through the eyes of a female character. Craig’s

words can be interpreted several ways. In the context of gendered spectatorship, I would

argue that these words are meant to illustrate the concept of the gaze being rendered onto

this young female child. As a man, Craig is not used to being gazed upon, or being an

object “on display”. This new role is unsettling to him in his new skin.

Summary and Discussion

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This film is exceptionally rich in meaning, with several intriguing motifs.

Although the ideas revolving around the cult of “celebrity” are well structured in this

film, I chose to concentrate my analysis on the gendered spectatorship within the

narrative of the film, as well as spectatorship as experienced by the viewing audience.

Throughout this paper I have discussed several examples of gender identity issues

and sex role stereotypes. Applying Bem’s concept of “gender schematicity” to this film

one is able to discuss the idea that masculinity and femininity are merely the

constructions of a cultural schema-or lens-that polarizes gender (Sandra Bem, 1995) The

characters in this film, especially Craig, Maxine and Lotte, are all confined to certain

expected categories of behavior due to societal pressures. Yet all three are really what

might be considered “deviant” figures. Craig is certainly a man who exhibits some

feminine qualities. For the better part of the movie he remains shy, soft-spoken, and (in a

slightly warped way) romantic. He fancies himself an artist and an intellectual, living

outside of the mainstream lifestyle in which people push themselves to better their

careers and make more money. Craig is also not interested in having children, as we find

out during a conversation he has with Lotte. It isn’t until he inhabits the body of

Malkovich that Craig is truly “masculine” in his behavior. He is able to possess the gaze

in a way he could not as “himself”. At some point, this masculinity seems to rob Craig of

his senses. He makes a complete change, going from soft spoken and meek a gun-

wielding bully who locks his wife in a monkey cage. Perhaps this change in behavior can

be attributed to the societal expectations that are thrust upon individuals do to their

outward appearance and physicality.

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Maxine is another character who goes against the grain of what would be

considered a traditional gender role. Although she is an attractive woman who is the

subject of several gazes, she certainly exhibits the ability to appropriate the gaze for her

own agenda. She instigates action, but she is not passive. She controls the actions of

others by suggesting to them what their next move should be. At the same time, she is

also acting. For example, it is Maxine who decides to make the portal into a business

venture. It is also Maxine who calls up Malkovich to ask for a date. She doesn’t wait for

the man to make the move. Even in her interactions with Craig, it is she who instigates

all the action in the “relationship”. She tells him where and when they will meet, and she

is quite vocal as to her lack of feelings towards him.

Lotte is perhaps the character that goes through the most dramatic transformation.

As the film opens, she is obviously a woman looking for affection, as characterized by

her relationship with her animals. She often refers to the animals as one would to their

own children and goes so far as to diaper her chimp. She is soft spoken and never

questions her husbands’ acts or opinions. Lotte definitely fits the mold of the “good

wife”. She seems trapped in her less than fulfilling life, as well as being trapped in a

body she is not happy or at peace with.

When Lotte is allowed to inhabit the body of a man, she goes through a major

transformation. Her whole demeanor changes. She is no longer the “good wife” who

caters to her husband’s whims. Instead, she talks back to Craig and at one point goes so

far as to scream at him, “Suck my dick!”. One has to explore the possibility that it is not

just the physical experience of being inside the body of a male that brings about this

change in Lotte. It seems that Lotte’s true nature is allowed to emerge. Emotions and

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thoughts she’s had all her life are no longer seen as unladylike, as a man these same

behaviors are viewed by society is totally acceptable in social situations and within

interpersonal relationships.

I believe that Being John Malkovich addresses issues of gendered spectatorship in

a way few films before it have been able to. By literally placing male and female

characters within bodies of the opposite sex, Jonze and Kaufman are able to truly

illustrate the issues faced by spectators of film in terms of gender. Their storytelling

allows a non-traditional spectatorship in which women do not have to identify with inert

objects. Rather, the female characters are active. One is an active force unto herself, the

other asserts her independence and ability to act through the use of a male shell.

In closing, I feel this film challenges the audience to consider questions that are

difficult to answer. Questions like, how do we define ourselves? How important is the

physicality of sex and gender? When Maxine realizes she has feelings for Lotte, she

cannot accept her in the physical form that she is in. Why do we place such importance

on gender in our society? Being John Malkovich takes a step forward in allowing us to

loosen the chains of societal “norms”, and perhaps, brings us closer to realizing that the

sum of who we are as individuals is more than the sum or our body parts.

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