If you have interacted with my Online Content™️ for a significant length of time, you may well be aware that, above all else, I am something of “a hater.” I can’t help it, there’s a knee jerk contrarianism built into my DNA; if something is popular my immediate assumption is that there must be some secret shitty thing about it that’s worth dissecting. It is a struggle to, as they say, “let people enjoy things,” though I certainly try!
So it’s in that spirit that when I saw that Them had run a piece about the nuanced bi representation of 2023, my first thought was, “Whatever it is, it probably sucks.” And I mean, I think that’s a forgivable thought to have: a lot of what passes for “nuanced bi representation” does suck; the bar is so low that “is a normal person who doesn’t cheat on anyone” is considered a major step forward. But reading through the piece, I realized two things:
- I have seen very few movies this year (I did make time for Dicks: The Musical and Bottoms though)
- I think what I want from “bisexual representation” in films is… complicated
I mean yes, of course, I want bi characters who are allowed to be human and not defined by their bisexuality. I want bisexuality to just exist in films, without being a twist or a hook or the defining characteristic of who a character is. I want some breathing room, you know?
But having said that, the movie that sounded the most compelling — the most necessary — was Anatomy of a Fall, which is described thusly:
Anatomy of a Fall, by comparison, is concerned with how perceptions of its protagonist’s bisexuality affect judicial outcomes. As Sandra (Sandra Hüller) faces trial for her husband’s murder, the public wonders whether her composure and her refusal to perform the role of grieving widow are an indicator of guilt or of her innate respectability. Is her icy demeanor evidence that she is a bad mother, or is this just her staunch professionalism? As the trial unfolds, Sandra faces an interrogation about her sexual past. It is implied that her history of partners outside of her marriage suggests guilt, with the prosecution trying to catch her in a lie that will expose a deceitful nature. Sandra must differentiate between those relationships, which were secrets from her husband and those that were openly communicated dalliances, trying to explain to a heteronormative audience that not all romantic relationships outside of a marriage are affairs. Again, in a lesser film, the mere fact of Sandra’s bisexuality might be treated as a twist in and of itself, or a way to cast suspicion on her. In Anatomy of a Fall, though, the prejudices toward Sandra’s hookups say more about the prosecution than the defendant.
(Emphases mine.)
I’m so used to film perpetuating biphobia that it never fully occurred to me that films might be used to illustrate and explore biphobia, you know? Certainly, one of the reasons that I love Chasing Amy is because it is an understated exploration of biphobia; a love story that is derailed because an insecure man can’t deal with his partner’s complex bisexual history (or his own closeted bisexual desires). There’s a gratification in seeing such a common bi female experience of rejection explored onscreen; and it’s strange to realize that it feels so… unusual… or more than that, like it might even be too much to ask.
Because honestly, it often feels like we’re so stuck in trying to get movies and TV to depict us as “normal people” that the idea of asking movies and TV to explore our specific bisexual pain is a bridge too far. I mean, half of us can’t even recognize our own pain as specifically bisexual: how often was Katie Hill’s public humiliation positioned as misogyny broadly rather than bimisogyny specifically? And yet film and TV (and books and podcasts and all manner of storytelling media) feel like such a perfect venue for exploring our particular and specific pain, for asking audiences, not merely to see us as “real people,” but to empathize with and understand our loneliness, our isolation, our experiences of abuse.
Shit, now I really want to see a fictionalized version of the Katie Hill story that does not shy away from the fact that her experience of public humiliation was inseparable from her bisexuality. I mean yes, of course I also want media that “normalizes bisexuality” and gives me a fantasy world where being bi is NBD, of course. But man, it would just be so cathartic to see more works of art that give voice to the quiet and too often unspoken experience of bisexual pain.
(If anyone is inspired by this newsletter to make something to that effect, feel free to reach out to me about it!)
Leave a Reply