Opi n ions
Paul Verhoeven’s Benedetta Exploits Queerness for Shock Value Cal Ransom Benedetta, a 2021 film co-written and directed by Paul Verhoeven, tells the story of a nun who sees visions of Christ and is headed for sainthood — that is, until a same-sex affair is revealed between her and another young nun. The movie was shown at the Cannes Film Festival and received positive reviews for its explicit sex scenes. Paul Verhoeven is protected by his manhood and his straightness. He does not feel the shame that comes along with women’s sexuality or queerness. He is able to show those themes on screen while being protected by the shield of his privilege. He has not been taught that his sexuality should be a hidden thing, one that bears shame. The first time I was aware of my sexuality as a girl was when I wanted to buy a button-down shirt that had buttoned pockets on both sides of the chest. My mother pointed out to me that the buttons might look like nipples, and told me I’d be inviting unwanted attention. Later, I was advised to not send nude photos in case someone kept them and released them later. If the world could see my body, if my sexuality wasn’t reserved for whoever had “won” me and kept quiet, I would be branded and my life could be ruined. In high school, I had started to accept my queer identity and wanted to wear a suit to prom, but my mother made me buy a dress , though she did eventually let me wear the suit. I learned from these experiences that my sexuality was supposed to be private and I was putting myself in great danger if I exposed myself in any way. I don’t have the luxury of watching the queerness in the film while being removed from it in the way straight people do. There is no shortage of queer filmmakers trying to make it these days. There are only prejudices and biases that prevent them from succeeding. Queer filmmakers are told not to make their work all about their queerness and are criticized for throwing their sexuality in the viewer’s face. Yet when straight people like Verhoeven tell queer stories, they are praised. There are three types of viewers of Benedetta. The first and most common is the heterosexual man or woman, who can watch with perverse curiosity. While the woman may have experienced the inherent shame that is taught with women’s sexuality, she is still removed from the experience of lesbianism, the label that adds the final layer to the shock factor of the film. For this group, the film is a circus where Verhoeven serves as the ringmaster. He is detached and in control, letting the viewers delight in the thrill of the voyeurism of the film while remaining safe in their socially acceptable lifestyles. Similar to the first category of viewers is the queer male. Queer men possess a position of power as men, not taught that their manhood and sexuality is the ultimate shame. In the way that straight viewers can remain detached from the queerness, men can remain detached from the experience of female sexuality. As someone socialized as a woman, I have been taught that my sexuality should be hidden, so I did feel a sense of shame watching the way Benedetta and her lover, Bartolomea, indulge in pleasure. The final conflict centers around a statue of the Virgin Mary, carved by Bartolomea
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into a dildo. She presents it as a gift to Benedetta and they delight in using it on each other, before the nuncio, a powerful local representative of the Pope, condemns them. While the acts of pleasure are used for shock value in the film, Verhoeven uses the tone of the film to give the viewer reassurance that the queerness is not a sin, at least in the eyes of the God in the movie. The third type of viewer is the queer woman. While the film does not present the sex scenes in their crudest form, it is the Hollywood “aesthetic” lesbian porn that has become typical of big box lesbian-centered films. Both the women are skinny, white, and feminine; the sex is choreographed and sensual. Anyone who’s experienced sex, regardless of sexuality, knows that sex is not sensual and choreographed — it can be awkward, challenging, and sometimes not even sexy! When the only exposure we have to lesbian sex is highly choreographed and full of mood lighting, how are we supposed to know that sex is not always like that? How do we develop realistic expectations for ourselves and our partners? Perhaps a fourth category should be included: the former or current Catholic. The Catholic League, a Catholic news journal, criticized the film’s homosexuality in a religious setting and its success at the Cannes Film Festival. The film does use the context and stylization of a typical Bible story to frame the narrative, though there are some notable differences. I grew up watching Bible story films, where the visions that Moses and the apostles see are shown as if they are really happening — complete with the characters being transported to another place and Jesus or angels appearing. The visions Benedetta experiences are also shown as she is presumably seeing them: Jesus appearing in front of her as a shepherd with sheep on a hill, her feet hitting the ground made of dirt and grass as she runs toward him — even though she is seeing these visions while laying on a table in the church play. However, the film differs from the traditional Bible story film in tone. In this scene, the characters around her stare awkwardly, not in awe, and others show disbelief when she reveals her visions to them. While the church teaches that things happened how God intended them, this movie demonstrates human fallibility and the decision-making by those in power that molds history. Those in power are clearly human; the village priest, the head of the convent, and the nuncio are shown as multi-dimensional people, despite their positions as antagonists. They are allowed to be wrong, and the movie portrays their shock over the actions of Benedetta and Bartolomea. Despite Verhoeven’s flawed usage of sexuality, this is one area in which where the movie shines and satisfies the queer woman(ish) viewer — our “ringmaster” has condemned religious bigotry and given our queer characters vindication. Ironically, the film highlights the homosexual acts as a source of shock for the audience. Are those who are shocked at the association between homosexuality and religion the villiains? Perhaps we are all to blame for indulging in the shock factors Verhoeven so clearly wants to highlight.
New York Times Free Speech Editorial Sends Dangerous Message Emma Benardete Opinions Editor
Last week, The New York Times published an editorial titled “America Has a Free Speech Problem.” The title alone is an unfortunate start, but it gets worse. Much worse. Right off the bat, the Editorial Board asserts that one of the core freedoms granted to Americans is “the right to speak their minds and voice their opinions in public without fear of being shamed or shunned.” To its credit, the Board does go on to clarify the “important distinction between what the First Amendment protects (freedom from government restrictions on expression) and the popular conception of free speech (the affirmative right to speak your mind in public, on which the law is silent).” It would have been better if it had come up sometime before the 13th paragraph. That distinction, of utmost importance to the framing of the argument at hand, is buried in the middle of the piece so that, by the time readers get to it, they have already been primed to understand the editorial through the lens of a wildly inaccurate interpretation of the First Amendment. The core argument of the piece is that a reality in which people hold their tongues for fear of shaming, shunning, retaliation, or harsh criticism is one that fundamentally threatens our democracy. The Editorial Board writes, “Free speech is the bedrock of democratic-self government. … When speech is stifled or when dissenters are shut out of public discourse, a society also loses its ability to solve conflict, and it faces a risk of political violence.” While this statement in and of itself does hold water, the piece conflates real, legal dangers to free speech — such as book-banning and Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” bill — with “harsh criticism” or “shaming and shunning” in response to the espousal of genuinely harmful sentiments. The editorial includes data from a poll, conducted by New York Times Opinion in conjunction with Siena College, that explores perceptions of free speech in the U.S. The survey reports that 55 percent of people have “held their tongue” at least once over the past year for fear of retaliation or harsh criticism, and 22 percent said they had retaliated against or harshly criticized someone for something they said. They make it out to be some tragic symptom of an ever more politically correct world, but these statistics are not nearly as concerning as the editorial would lead you to believe. Far from foretelling the downfall of American society, these numbers indicate that people are holding each other accountable for their words. The poll also found that Black respondents were least likely to have held their tongues for fear of criticism or retaliation and generally felt the freest of all racial groups to talk about issues like gender identity, religion, and race relations. The article glosses over this point and fails to analyze the implications of these results: that the people who feel silenced on important political issues and feel their free speech is being threatened are, by and large, the ones who are accustomed to holding positions of power and not having to watch what they say about people in less privileged positions.
“The old lesson of ‘think before you speak’ has given way to the new lesson of ‘speak at your peril,’” the article reads, but this has always been the case for people of oppressed groups. The difference is that now, privileged people are finally being forced to contend with that reality in a way that used to be reserved for those who have historically been marginalized. “The full-throated defense of free speech was once a liberal ideal,” writes the Editorial Board. It goes on to describe some of the legal battles that liberals have historically fought in order to preserve the right to free speech — the right not to recite the Pledge of Allegiance, the right to demonstrate against the Vietnam War, the right to burn the American flag. “And yet,” it writes, “many progressives have lost sight of that principle.” It cites a 93-yearold woman from Hartford, CT, who said she was “alarmed about reports of speakers getting shouted down on college campuses.” What the Board fails to realize is that rather than losing sight of that principle, liberals and progressives are able to recognize that it is, in fact, two separate principles. The first is the freedom to speak without government interference. The second is the freedom to speak without social consequence. In the same way I believe in the right of someone to burn the American flag or kneel for the National Anthem, I believe in the right of someone to tell me that I am doomed to eternal damnation because I am a queer atheist. It is my right, then, to shame, shun, and harshly criticize them. Freedom of speech cannot be a one-way street: the assertion of the right to speak without criticism necessarily undermines the free speech of the critics. As an editor, and especially as an Opinions editor, I understand the importance of giving a platform to a variety of voices and perspectives. In the Review’s Opinions section, we strive to publish pieces that represent the full spectrum of perspectives at the College. However, it is critical that we keep in mind the distinction between an opinions piece and an editorial. While an opinions piece represents the opinion of an individual, an editorial represents the opinion of an editorial board: it is the collective voice of a large team of journalists. At some publications, like The Washington Post, editorials are explicitly stated to represent the position of the entire paper. Even though the Times Editorial Board does not officially represent the views of the publication, it holds the power and influence that come with being perceived that way. The decision to publish an editorial that so clearly antagonizes criticism of harmful views, especially as the most influential editorial board in the country, and perhaps the world, is reckless. It bolsters those who use this argument as an excuse to say harmful things while telling people who have been fighting for decades to be treated with respect that we are wrong for standing up for ourselves and setting boundaries. They say that free speech is “predicated on mutual respect,” but when someone makes an offensive joke about queer people, that is disrespectful to me and a critical part of my identity, and I will not hesitate to exercise my own right to free speech and criticize the harm that is caused. Respect must be earned, and those who have chosen not to respect others will not earn my respect in return.
