This essay makes reference to Cheryl Dunye’s 1996 film, “The Watermelon Woman.”
The Watermelon Woman & Cheryl Dunye’s Critique of Feminist Film Theory
CMST 3BB3
Course: Women in Visual Culture
March 2010
Student: Blair Kelly
Student #: 0358715
Professor: Dr. Janice Hladki
Watermelon Woman is a mockumentary-style movie directed by Cheryl Dunye. It follows the life of the lead protagonist, Cheryl, as she goes about her everyday life, and her adventures in constructing a documentary on the life of Fae Richards. Richards is a black actress active in the first half of the 20th century. By nature of being a mockumentary, the movie retains a fair degree of consistency to the real world. Within Watermelon Woman, Dunye rejects outright, and indeed works in direct opposition to, the hegemonic ideologies of the era in which “Plantation Memories” (a fictional film made in the 1930s) was made. But, she goes beyond this rejection and asserts that the male gaze is not exclusively accessible and authentic to men. Further, through her plot, dialogue, and casting choices, Dunye suggests that the gaze is not dictated by skin colour or sex, but rather that it is informed by one’s background and frame of mind.
Dunye frames the character she portrays, Cheryl, in polar opposition to the social status quo of the time in which Plantation Memories was made. The majority of directors of high-profile cinema in 1930s USA would necessarily have been white. In the fictional world of Watermelon Woman, Martha Page, the director of Plantation Memories, reportedly fits to this norm. In this regard, simply by being black, Dunye goes against the dominant ideologies of the 1930s, and even of the present day. Further, the sexual orientation of these white directors in the early 20th century would have been straight. More importantly, even if they were gay or lesbian, they would have been hesitant to broadcast the fact. Dunye acknowledges this in Watermelon Woman, when a surviving (white) friend of Martha Page was extremely offended by Cheryl’s news of Martha’s lesbianism. In the vast majority of cases throughout most of 20th century western society, gay and lesbian individuals faced, at the very least, ostracization for their “choices.” Take, for example, the lamentable case of Alan Turing (scientist, mathematician, genius). For his tremendous assistance to the allied forces in World War II, the British Government gave thanks by sterilizing him – he was, after all, a gay man. He committed suicide in 1954 (Stanford Encyclopedia). Cheryl’s own homosexuality, proudly on display, is in clear opposition to the hegemony of old.
Beyond positions of directorial authority and sexuality, the colour of one’s skin also determined, in terms of the dominant reading, worth as an actor. Black actors (actors in this essay referring to men and women performers) were marginalized, and black women were often disenfranchised to such a degree that their womanhood, and all that made them distinct was negated, their identity erased (Hooks 310). These black women were often not credited in movies properly (if at all). Cheryl summarily expresses her disbelief at Fae Richards similar treatment in Plantation Memories (she is labeled “The Watermelon Woman”). Entirely discontent with this effrontery, Dunye mobilizes to make the name and story of this “Watermelon Woman” known. Cheryl promises she will “find out who she is… I’m gonna tell you all about her.” Dunye has undoubtedly developed what Bell Hooks calls an “oppositional gaze” (308). Dunye’s lifestyle, which is the model for Cheryl’s character in Watermelon Woman is not simply content in being the way she is, but is compelled to meet the established norms of old head-on. Hooks contends, “to stare at the television, or mainstream movies, to engage its images, [is] to engage its negation of black representation” (308). Dunye meets face-to-face, and grabs hold of, power imbalance, lifestyle and colour discrimination, and the negation of black women in cinema.
Dunye does not stop merely at placing herself, and her character Cheryl, in opposition to tired, outdated social codes or ignorant representations of blackness. Within her film, she rejects the notion that the male gaze is the sole purview of men, and that women can only experience it vicariously. Laura Mulvey’s important and influential essay “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema” asserts the “spectator identifies with the main male protagonist [of a film], he projects his look onto that of his like, his screen surrogate,” and implies that the resulting gaze is the ego-ideal of the male spectator (5). Mulvey’s essay made heavy use of the psychoanalytic theory of Freud and Lacan. Marita Sturken and Lisa Cartwright, in their essay “Spectatorship, Power and Knowledge,” note “Freud & Lacan took binary categories of male and female as core elements in their theories” (93). The authors go on to say:
Dunye agrees, as evidenced in her partially autobiographical work. She addresses each of the points mentioned above simultaneously in the first scene in Watermelon Woman involving Diana. Diana is a white, lesbian woman who overtly assumes the position of the male protagonist to which Mulvey refers. Diana looks Cheryl “up-and-down” (or if you prefer, “checks her out”). She asks Cheryl for suggestions but rejects them; she “controls events” as the male protagonist would (Mulvey 5). Further, Dunye’s character Cheryl is framed as the “object to be possessed” (Mulvey 5). Cheryl keeps herself from engaging Diana’s advances, and remains the “passive/female” (Mulvey 4). In order to solidify Cheryl’s position as object to be possessed, her colleague Tamara asks, “so, who’s the cutie?” Cheryl’s answer is “some customer,” intimating disinterest. Tamara persists, and Cheryl responds by asking, “Tamara, why are you constantly clocking women?” Tamara explains, “because we’re lesbians, we’re into female-to-female attraction.” All of this dialogue takes place in order to cement Cheryl in the “passive” role, and in opposition, Diana alongside Tamara, in the “active” role, as female bearers of Mulvey’s “male gaze.”
To be clear, Dunye also suggests that an individual is not restricted to one “type” of gaze or another. Cheryl is both an object that is looked at and desired by a female character. She is also a controller of the look. In the same scene discussed above, Tamara says that Cheryl is the “one who is supposed to be clockin’ all the girls,” suggesting that Cheryl has a history of pursuing multiple women, fulfilling Mulvey’s “active/male” role. More importantly, Tamara asks Cheryl when she was “last with a woman,” and Cheryl replies, “ a week – remember the emotionally-imbalanced Yvette?” Cheryl is in control of Yvette’s image, her representation. Cheryl has created meaning and ascribed it to Yvette; a role that Mulvey claims belongs to men (1). As Dunye has deftly illustrated, it is quite possible for a woman to possess the so-named “male gaze” at the same time that she is the object of another’s gaze, regardless of that other’s gender. As Sturken & Cartwright report, of more recent film theory, “some authors suggest that we cannot just assume that a gender binary determines the gaze on its own” (85).
Dunye’s portrayal of various elements in Watermelon Woman (casting, plot, dialogue, etc) demonstrate that various viewing relationships between characters and between spectators and movie components are better understood on an individual basis. The relationship shared by Diana and Cheryl, coupled with the various traits of both women (one white, one black) opens up the narrative to appropriation by anyone. To better see this, it is fruitful to further analyze the partnership. Take, for example, the sex scene between Cheryl and Diana. These are two women, naked; both hyper-eroticized as they perform sexual acts. They both desire each other, one is black, the other is white, and they are both possessing each other; neither is dominant. Any person could identify with or desire what is portrayed. A straight woman could identify with the lust, or the passion, or any number of elements of feelings between the two women, and desire those emotions. Straight white or black men could desire the same emotions, as well as both women (as sexual objects). The spectator might simply enjoy being a voyeur. It is not hard to imagine the ease with which a complex gaze could be constructed by anyone. The point is not that there is something “here for everybody;” what is made apparent is the identification and desire which could be had in any positive relationship. Sally Stafford writes (of Jackie Stacey), “the rigid distinction between either desire or identification so characteristic of psychoanalytic film theory, fails to address the construction of desires which involve a specific interplay of both processes” (238). As Stafford remarked of the sentiment in more recent feminist film theory, “appropriation [may] be seen as key to the construction of meaning” (243).
Dunye does not stop at romantic relationships, but also takes aim at the complexity of relationships of power. Cheryl is arrested later in the movie by two police officers, one is black and the other is white, both are male. Both officers mistake Cheryl for a man. Dunye points to an establishment, the police force, the powers it represents as well as its relationship to Cheryl, the main protagonist. The vast majority of viewers will identify with Cheryl’s frustration and helplessness if not her indignation at being discriminated against in multiple ways. Dunye’s decision to make one police officer black is designed to blur the “race line,” or binary descriptor, bringing the focus back to power. Her slightly androgynous appearance which allowed the officers to mistake her gender allows both men and women to more easily identify and empathize, adding to the architecture of the viewer’s gaze, hardly delimiting it. Dunye even takes issue with turning the “powers that be” into the “other” that cannot be related to. Bob, the videostore owner, for which Cheryl, Tamara, and Annie work, is a black man and frequently becomes annoyed at his three employees. But his complaints are not unfounded, and though his method may be unsavory, he can easily be identified with. This opens the door for further interpretation and perspective-building for white or black viewers, identifying with his colour, his authority, or his sexual tendencies (he makes passes at Diana), or desiring his authority. The position of the employees is just as easily understood.
Not content with allowing Cheryl’s character to be designated as perpetual underdog, Dunye frames her as boss of her own small media business. She too must deal with Tamara’s intransigence. The lines of power separation are even further blurred. Perhaps most salient, or importantly, Dunye raises issue at modes and perceptions of discrimination. Tamara, as a black woman, is presumably racist. This can be assumed by her attitudes toward white characters in the film. In Cheryl’s own words, Tamara treats Annie “like shit, all of the time.” Also, Tamara disapproves strongly of Cheryl’s relationship with Diana, and even goes so far to ask Cheryl if she “no longer likes the colour of her skin” (this elicits strong protest from Cheryl). Dunye is careful to distinguish between black pride and racism. During a musical performance, the black lead of “Sistah Sound” sings “I say I’m proud to be black, I’m labeled the racist.” This is during the scene in which Tamara scorns Annie for doing the same thing as her, at the very same time (filming good-looking women in the crowd, instead of the performers). Dunye is clearly drawing the line between legitimate attitudes and discrimination. Almost as if to wave a flag in the viewer’s face, Dunye goes so far as to don Annie with a curious fashion sense – which involves a collar. Annie’s easy labeling not as the “coloured girl” but the “collared girl” is less-than-accidental. Dunye’s stylistic choices open up the narrative to almost any perspective, allowing for a diverse reading by any viewer, leaving film theorists wondering why the same processes of identification and desire could not be employed with any other film. As Stafford wrote, “there is always more than one way to read a text” (238), and Dunye is well aware of this. She most evidently wanted to communicate the same throughout her work.
Watermelon Woman is a complex film about opposition to negation of black identity, and is a piece which successfully disrupts any preconceived notions about the nature of various gazes that can be constructed by any viewer of a film. Dunye places her character, Cheryl, firmly against the established norms of 1930s cinema and society. She refuses to accept Fae Richards shunning to the realm of invisibility; she works hard to tear down the façade, the mask of “Watermelon Woman.” But she is not content with merely establishing the wrongness of Richards’ treatment. Dunye meticulously dissolves illegitimate perceptions of who may be the bearers of various gazes; she goes so far as to suggest there are no barriers. There are many ways to appropriate a text in order to give it meaning. Watermelon Woman is an important work. It warns society – its film theorists and thinkers of all kinds – against chasing away one discriminative mode of thinking only to end up in another.
Bibliography
“Alan Turing (Standford Encyclopedia of Philosophy).” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. First published: June 3rd, 2002. Retrieved March 22, 2010. http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/turing/
Hooks, Bell. (1999). The Oppositional Gaze: Black Female Spectators. In Sue Thornham (Ed.), Feminist Film Theory: A Reader (pp. 307-320). Washington Square, NY: New York University Press.
Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” Screen. Autumn 1975 pp. 6-18. Print. PDF file, pages 1-5. Obtained from the web at: http://imlportfolio.usc.edu/ctcs505/mulveyVisualPleasureNarrativeCinema.pdf
Stafford, Sally. (2000). Film Theory. In Fiona Carson & Claire Pajaczkowska (Eds.), Feminist Visual Culture (pp. 229-247). Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.
Sturken, Marita, & Cartwright, Lisa. (2001). Spectatorship, Power, and Knowledge. In M. Sturken & L. Cartwright, Practices in Looking: An Introduction to Visual Culture (pp. 72-108). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
