Inhabiting Discomfort: Analysing Queer Bodies In 'Transparent' & 'Blue Is The Warmest Colour'
By Haydn Hickson
When the ideal script for life comprises solely of a heteronormative existence, those who do not fit said script experience feelings of discomfort. Sarah Ahmed in ‘Queer Feelings’ argues that the reproduction of the family unit becomes the locus of “compulsory heterosexuality”, which causes anything outside these realms to be perceived as a threat, or feared by society. Thus, begins the point of homosexual discomfort. As "norms surface as the surfaces of bodies", the orientation of the homosexual body in heteronormative spaces immediately disobeys expectations had for them. The subsequent discomfort can be seen to have “psychic as well as… social costs”, especially when reading the queer figure through a neoliberal lens or against traditional familial structures. In analysing the characters of the television series Transparent and Abdellatif Kechiche’s French film Blue Is the Warmest Colour, it is evident that this discomfort takes the formation of an array of feelings, as characters struggle to “sink into” heteronormative spaces. These feelings include deceit and disorientation, shame, a drive to live a heteronormative life and alienation. Furthermore, this essay will additionally analyse the audience discomfort in the queer-oriented, phenomenological experience of viewing the aforementioned visuals. Here, discomfort takes the form of disgust and rejection, through the spectator’s failure to interpellate with queer representations on-screen, through inaccuracy and knowledge of the filmmaking process.
QUEER DECEIT & DISORIENTATION IN THE COMING OUT EXPERIENCE
The queer subject experiences feelings of deceptiveness and disorientation when coming out to a heteronormative society, as evident in the narratives of Adéle (Blue is the Warmest Colour) and Maura (Transparent). The process of revealing one’s true sexual / gender identity assumes that the queer subject had been orienting themselves to the world as a participant in “compulsory heterosexuality” prior. Thus, in their escape of the heteronormative comfort zone, the homosexual body fails to sink into a society for which they once did. Blue is the Warmest Colour (BITWC) and Transparent both illustrate discomfort during this coming out process through the emotions of deceit and disorientation. Deceit is displayed as the revelation of one’s sexuality/gender becomes more about a revelation of truth (implying dishonesty before), and disorientation is present as the emotion that the queer subject experiences when inhabiting heteronormative spaces for the first time.
Transparent displays Mort’s transition to Maura as one that is not only difficult but filled with disorientation and a worry of potential deceitfulness. As Maura (dressed as Mort) builds the courage to tell her children of her true gender identity, her discomfort overcomes her ability to go through with it. Sitting at the dinner table, the camera swings back and forth, placing salience on Maura’s frozen facial expression as her children bark over the top of one another. The series’ pilot creates a claustrophobic atmosphere that reinforces Maura’s perplexed state of mind. She is unable to speak, frozen in time and space. Ergo, she is unable the queer space, and fulfil her initial intentions. Despite this, Maura still faces immense timely pressure to reveal her gender identity, out of fear of being deceitful to her family. This fixation on honesty is not only reflected in the series’ title but also fundamentally reflects the real-life trans* experience, in that “trans* people who do not … ‘come out’ may be judged as misleading or deceptive”.
Similarly, in BITWC, Adéle also experiences discomfort and deceitfulness, but due to the surprising nature of her acquaintances’ accusations. Adéle’s coming out experience occurs in shock to Adéle, as the surrounding students spring on her the knowledge of her whereabouts at a lesbian bar and question her relationship with Emma. The students fired questions at an increasingly rapid pace, forcing Adéle to shut down and deny everything. Disorientation here stems from her inability to prepare for this coming out moment, reflected in her trembling voice. Her frozen body language additionally reflects her deceitfulness in denying the accusations, which the audience know to be true. Adéle ultimately fails to sink into the space of her school once her true sexual identity is revealed, stemming from her dishonesty. Notably the openly gay character, Valentin, receives no homophobic abuse, which the audience can assume is the result of his honesty regarding his sexuality.
To conclude, through the depiction of the coming out experience, it is evident that the queer body experiences disorientation and feelings of deceptiveness when leaving the comfort zone of heterosexuality. Thus, discomfort occurs as these bodies fail to belong in societies for which they once did.
INTERNAL AND EXTERNAL SHAME FOR THE QUEER BODY
Shame is another form of discomfort that the queer body experiences when failing to sink into a heteronormative space, especially immediately after coming out. Once the queer subject has confessed their true identity, their placement within the world subsequently changes as their orientation is no longer aligns with “compulsory heteronormativity”. This disobeying of normality can see shame overcome the queer individual, as one’s initial heterosexual privilege is lost, and one must discover a new identity. When analysing Transparent and BITWC, shame takes the form of both internal and external discomfort, respectively. For Maura, shame is evident through her internal self-loathing, which Funk & Funk argue to be problematic as it normalises trans* self-loathing. Contrastingly, Adéle’s shame is externalised, being content with her new-found identity, but lying to those around her.
Throughout early episodes of Transparent, Jeffrey Tambor’s character exhibits internalised self-loathing both as Maura, and through flashbacks as Mort. Caused by no specific enemy, Maura’s self-loathing and shame stem from society’s inability to ‘take her shape’. This ultimately reflects Funk & Funk’s argument that cisgender privilege shames those who do not possess it, ultimately “making LGBTQIA individuals feel at fault for their own social/ sexual / gender isolation”. A moment of shame is illustrated in a flashback of Mort, as he locks himself in his office, staring at a colourful piece of women’s clothing. The audio is silent as a student knocks on his door. He freezes, making sure to not make a sound so that he won’t be caught in a shameful act. Furthermore, Maura also demonstrates self-loathing as she sends her old photos to be photoshopped with her female identity replacing Mort. Being a figure in a double-bind, unable to regain anonymity post-transitioning, Maura’s self-loathing of her past represents a form of discomfort that arises when heteronormativity doesn’t ‘extend’ its shape to fit the queer figure.
Contrastingly, Adéle’s shame in BITWC is displayed externally, through her interactions with others. In addition to the aforementioned denial of her lesbian-identity to her school acquaintances, the audience can read her shame through her concealment of her relationship to her parents and colleagues. Firstly, the film displays a change in tone during a dinner scene between Adéle, her parents and Emma. As Adéle’s mother says to Emma, “It’s nice of you to help her with philosophy”, it becomes clear that Adéle has concealed her relationship and identity, forcing Emma to perform the role of Adéle’s straight tutor. The awkwardness of the scene is reflected in Emma’s facial expression as well as the fragile way Adéle eats her spaghetti juxtaposing to imagery in the films orientation. Additionally, as her male teacher colleague asks her to join him for a social event, Adéle responds “Tonight I have a family dinner”. As he prompts her for more information, Adéle noticeably responds with vague answers concealing her relationship as well as her lesbian identity.
Thus, shame is an example of a type of discomfort that can arise within the queer figure as a reaction to the restrictive heteronormativity. This can take the form of both external and internal shame, often relating to their gender /sexual identity before coming out.
THE QUEER DRIVE FOR A (HETERO)-NORMATIVE LIFE
Thus far, this essay has argued that the queer body’s placement in a heteronormative society feels discomfort through negative emotions such as discomfort and shame, as a result of not belonging in a space. The following section will demonstrate how discomfort can also encourage the queer individual to adapt oneself to fit in with heteronormative expectations. Given Andrew Sullivan argues that most gay people want to be normal, one could read certain actions of homosexual characters as an act of conformity, whether intended or not. As Funk & Funk state “everybody is… defined according to the gaze of others” and for the characters in BITWC and Transparent, the ideal script for a lesbian lifestyle or a trans* individual is embedded within their respective cultures. Thus, Maura and Adéle can be deconstructed as figures attempting to fulfil societal expectations, in order to escape discomfort.
Throughout the second season of Transparent, audiences witness the character of Maura both reading and being read against a normalised trans* script, ultimately partaking in the norms of a heteronormative space. With the help of other trans* characters, she learns how embody a woman by acting more feminine. While she is happier as she finds her individual identity in her society, one could read this action as being forced upon her by a society that reinforces the reproduction of the gender binary. In a scene where Maura is discussing testosterone-blockers with a doctor, the audience is subject to the heteronormative script at work, as the doctor assumes her sexual preference of men. “Do you top or do you bottom?”, the question is probed to a startled Maura and as the shot pauses on her agape mouth. Nevertheless, Maura is also guilty of casting judgements upon other trans*-relationships and judging them based on her heteronormative standards, evidenced as she criticises Davina’s relationship. Davina feistily replies, “I’m a 53-year-old, ex prostitute, HIV+ woman with a dick”, causing Maura to realise her heteronormative expectations of a male-partner didn’t account for the struggles of trans* women.
Alternatively, Adéle’s discomfort sees the exercising of the heterosexual script as she thrives in heteronormative spaces, and engages with traditionally feminine expectations in queer spaces. When analysing Adéle in crowded environments on screen, she seems to thrive when engaging with her heteronormative instincts. For example, as Adéle marches in an LGBTQIA equality march, she is noticeably absent-minded as the camera locks in a close-up of her face and she awkwardly dances. This heavily contrasts to a scene following at her birthday party, where Adéle dances with complete freedom with heterosexual bodies. The contrasting scenes are evidential that, in crowded spaces, Adéle feels more comfortable in heterosexual environments. Furthermore, Adéle also finds comfort as she performs the antiquated role of the feminine housewife within queer spaces. As Emma holds an exhibition for her art, filled with queer guests, Adéle seemingly struggles to engage with her surroundings, finding comfort in cooking, cleaning and playing hostess. Through both these examples, we see Adéle struggle to perform her lesbian identity, thriving when appearing straight in heteronormative spaces and conforming to heteronormative expectations of women in queer spaces.
To conclude, the discomfort of the queer in heteronormative spaces may probe the queer subject to perform heteronormative acts, or fulfil heteronormative expectations. This is fundamentally due to the large extent in which the heteronormative script is embedded within society, causing the queer individual to adapt to it as opposed to queering the space.
QUEER ALIENATION IN QUEER SPACES
In the same way that a heteronormative society accepts certain body types inhabiting spaces, queer environments may also extend their spaces to fit some bodies more easily than others. Subsequently, the queer subject may find also discomfort in queer spaces. Here, discomfort for the queer individual can take the form of alienation or loneliness, as they are rejected by society in which they strive to be accepted in. This discomfort is explored in similar ways through the experiences of Maura and Adéle in Transparent and BITWC. Both of these individuals find themselves othered by the lesbian community, resulting in feelings of loneliness and isolation.
In Transparent, Maura experiences alienation as she attends a women-only music festival, which in-time reveals itself to be one for “women born women”, ultimately alienating trans* women. This scenario reflects the real-life “hierarchy among LGBTQIA people (that) often works to marginalise trans*” individuals. Maura’s alienation is best depicted as she tries to leave the festival once learning of its policy. Encouraged by her daughter to stay, she quickly receives verbal abuse from women surrounding her, whom show no empathy for her trans* experience and focus on her privileges when she was a man. Her alienation forces her the circle, and subsequently out of the festival, evidencing an alienation that can occur because of hierarchy within the queer community.
In BITWC, Adéle similarly struggles when in queer spaces for not embodying the “movement” model of freedom, which her peers do. In the aforementioned art-exhibition party scene, Adéle noticeably struggles to converse with all of the queer subjects around her. The queer bodies, and especially Emma, represent the ideal neo-liberal figure, all self-made people with strong ambitions and careers within their artistic fields. Adéle contrastingly, is artistic in her writing but struggles to peruse it, and thus struggles to be career-driven. This disconnect with her queer peers, sees alienation and awkwardness in the scene; with stunted conversations and the constant hunched-over body language, Adéle, “reduced to the role of the cook”, ultimately becomes a recluse finding comfort in playing the hostess.
Thus, the discomfort of the queer individual can stem from an inability to sink into queer spaces. In the examples of Maura and Adéle, it is evident that the hierarchy within the LGBTQIA can work to cause alienation and loneliness for the individual.
AUDIENCE DISCOMFORT: QUEER DISGUST AND REJECTION
The following section of the essay aims to analyse the phenomenological experience of viewing Transparent and Blue is the Warmest Colour. For the queer spectator, one may feel that the virtual space of television extends to their shape through representation of the homosexual experience on screen. This can simultaneously see the queer subject find a sense of belonging, as what has traditionally been a heteronormative space sees the positive introduction of queer narratives. Nevertheless, discomfort has the potential to arise in the queer subject if the representation on screen is tainted. In the cases of Transparent and BITWC, discomfort arises in the spectator through queer disgust and alienation, as a result of knowledge of scandals during the filmic process, and a mis-representation of the queer struggle.
For the queer spectator, discomfort can take the form of queer disgust through knowledge of the filmic process for both Transparent and BITWC. These visuals fundamentally fail to queer a predominantly heteronormative space, forcing the queer spectator to feel discomfort in engaging with said visuals. Both of these texts, had scandals of straight men sexually harassing women on-set. While there was no harassment against queer figures, the scandals recalled the long queer history of discrimination from an oppressive power, unlocking queer grief in the audience. In Transparent, knowledge of the sexual harassment allegations against Jeffrey Tambor ultimately tainted his portrayal of Maura’s emotional struggle. Furthermore, knowledge of the exploitative directing in BITWC, tainted the relationship of Blue & Adéle and subsequently the portrayal of lesbianism on screen. When analysing the intimate lesbian scenes of the film, the film affectively presents a positive portrayal of queer pleasures. Directed to mimic 18th century, nudist art, the aesthetic shots themselves communicated a passionate, raw representation of a teenage love story. However, with knowledge of Léa Seydoux’s statement that she felt like a “prostitute” when filming, it’s difficult to read the film as one that “queers” a heteronormative space. Through knowledge of these deplorable working conditions, the original Deleuzian affect that the queer spectator experiences, is ultimately tainted upon comprehension of the actresses’ statements. The result is disgust at the representation of the queer experience on screen.
Additionally, the queer spectator may fail to sink into the virtual space of entertainment and feel comfortable watching a queer subject on screen, when the representation of that queer subject fails to represent the spectators experience. The representation of queer subjects on screen has always been significantly lower in comparison to heterosexual characters, however in recent years, the industry has seen a sizable shift. The growing visibility of LGBTQIA subjects has allowed for the exploration of queer issues to enter the mainstream. However, with still limited representations on screen, any queer subject on screen inadvertently enters the discourse of how accurately they represented queer issues. Both Transparent and BITWC delve into the struggles and experiences that queer people undergo, but due to their contexts, their characterisations can be read to mis-represent the LGBTQIA community. In BITWC, Adéle’s characterisation problematically represents the lesbian community, through her adulterous action to vulnerably sleep with a male, a trope which appears also in Lisa Cholodenko’s The Kids Are All Right. Furthermore, in Transparent, the character of Maura becomes a stand-in for the trans* community, but due to her wealthy context, her transition fails to represent key aspects of the transitioning process. Maura comes from a wealthy, Jewish background and lived the earlier years of her life with male privilege. While her transition later in life communicates the emotional struggle of trans* individuals, the television series fails to encapsulate other key, trans*-related struggles such as access to wealth to surgically transition, or issues that rise with employment when being a transgender figure. Furthermore, as Maura’s family is quite accepting, her coming out experience fails to encapsulate what many trans* individuals experience through a disconnect with their families.
To conclude, discomfort arises in the queer individual when failing to integrate with a heteronormative society. This discomfort can take the formation of disorientation and shame, especially when reading the figure against the family unit their coming-out experience. Furthermore, the queer individual may feel the need to live their life according to the heteronormative script and heteronormative expectations, in order to feel a sense of belonging in spaces that do not take their shape. Furthermore, when a queer individual experiences a form of representation on screen, discomfort may arise through a tainted or an inaccurate representation.
Reference List:
Sara Ahmed, “Queer Feelings,” in The Cultural Politics of Emotion (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2004)
Gilles Deleuze, Cinema 2: The time image. (London: Continuum, 2005)
Steven Funk and Jaydi Funk, “Transgender Dispossession in Transparent: Coming Out as a Euphemism for Honesty,” in Sexuality and Culture (2016)
Emily Greenhouse, “Did a Director Push Too Far?” in The New Yorker. [online] Available at: https://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/did-a-director-push-too-far [Accessed 8 Dec. 2017]. (2013)
Andrew Sullivan, Virtually normal: An argument about homosexuality. (London: Picador, 1995)
Linda Williams, “Blue is the Warmest Color: or the after-life of ‘Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema’” in New Review of Film and Television Studies, (2017)