Monday 14 September 2020

Cuties (Mignonnes) (2020) - Movie Review



I find it immensely aggravating that I can be in a position where the decision to review this (meaning that I actually sat down and watched it for myself, like literally every review on here) means that I could be facing harassment in the near-future, regardless of what I actually say about it. This might be the first time that the outrage surrounding a film is the main reason that I finally decided to review it, as the whole controversy surrounding this film kind of pisses me off.

I mean, I’ve seen all manner of garbage on here for the sake of a review, and the idea that you don’t even need to know about a piece of media to create a gargantuan morality crusade around it is kind of offensive to me as a critic; if only I knew I could’ve half-arsed it this whole time and not even watch shit before reviewing it!

Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t be getting this angry about other people’s opinions but, for real, not even the moral panic BS surrounding Joker got under my skin as badly as this has. It’s gotten to the point where I feel like I need to review this just to clear the air and put this production back into its own context, something that Netflix's horrendous marketing has effectively shunted out of place in the public eye. So with all that in mind, and knowing that I’m probably going to get written off for the exact same reason as the film I’m discussing… let’s actually talk about Cuties.

It’s a coming of age story about Amy (Fathia Youssouf), a French-Senegalese Muslim girl who becomes involved in a dance group with other 11-year-old girls. As an example of that tricky midway-point between pre-pubescence and pubescence proper, even with the cultural differences, it honestly felt accurate to my own feelings at around that age. The want to be seen as ‘not a kid’, the pretences of knowing more about sexuality and being ‘grown up’ than you actually do, getting inspiration on what it means to be ‘grown up’ from all the wrong places… yeah, I recognise quite a bit of this shit, and through the film’s framing, it does make a lot of sense.

That framing is a pretty crucial part of this entire production, as it can mean the difference between highlighting exploitation and indulging in that very same exploitation. And for whatever my opinion may be worth, I think they do a good job with the highlighting here. The idea of kids (both male and female) trying to act beyond their years is something that sticks to a lot of the imagery in the film, from the more prominent like the dancing sequences to the unassuming like Amy’s little brother wearing his mother's shoes. Not only that, the way that Amy and the other girls are influenced by social media definitely feels accurate to the way overt sexualisation of girls and women in the media has an effect on them in turn. Not that it’s anything new; just that social media and the Internet in general has made such misconceptions that much easier to find and imprint on.

And where Amy herself is concerned, seeing her family background and even how much her own mother is broken down by the expectations put on her by her conservative Muslim background, it’s understandable why she would look at something as (ostensibly) liberating and care-free as the dance group and see it as representing something she isn’t getting at home: Something of her own, a form of self-expression that doesn’t need to be checked by anyone else. The dance sequences themselves are pretty tough to watch, as they were likely intended, but as someone who has seen more than a few rap videos and the video hoes therein, the camera work at least comes across like they’re aping a very specific idea of what ‘girl power’ looks like. And it’s no coincidence that that idea, much like the traditions that brought Amy’s mother to tears, is largely informed by men and male gaze.

The film treats this kind of self-sexualisation with a cautionary eye, as something meant to be avoided or at the very least responded to with a healthier alternative, an idea that made a bit more sense for me personally once I did some digging around re: the film’s age rating. Now, in the U.S. and here in Australia, the film is rated MA, meaning that no kids are going to see it (unless they just use their parent’s Netflix profile because, in the words of Lupe Fiasco, they understand the Internet better than their parents). But in France, this film is rated Tous publics, the equivalent of a G rating. The discrepancies between those two rating systems are long and varied; for instance, Showgirls, the film that almost broke the American rating system when it first came out? Suitable for ages 12 and over in France.

I’m not bringing any of this up as a negative towards this film, though. Rather, I’m doing so to highlight the cultural differences between countries, the sexual norms of the country that birthed this production in the first place (which could heighten the need for media that properly contextualises sexual behaviour), and how the idea that an 11-year-old kid could legally watch this isn’t that outlandish. “Pics or it didn’t happen”, “out of sight, out of mind” and even the classic “show, don’t tell” are phrases that still apply to the media landscape today, and as a means of showing young girls and their parents about this kind of influence, I certainly get why it exists.

Now, with all that said, I fully admit that I felt insanely uncomfortable watching this thing, and for as much as I get the reasons behind what is shown, that didn’t magically make it any easier to sit through. But like with quite a few films I’ve covered on here over the years, I also admit that this wasn’t made with someone like me in mind. With the film’s very insular eye, showing the story from the point of view of a child (rather than, say, the point of view of a parent observing that child), it’s difficult to watch this and argue in good faith that it’s endorsing the behaviour it’s depicting. The literal first frame we get is of Amy, on-stage and in tears, an image that doesn’t exactly set up for a positive depiction of what led up to it.

When dealing with a topic like this, one that those in the West have a history of turning a blind eye to (have we all suddenly forgotten that Honey Boo Boo was a thing?), being confronting and making the audience feel queasy is part of the point, and I absolutely welcome media that is able to genuinely make people feel uncomfortable with the ideas it puts forward, even if they misconstrue what exactly they’re meant to feel uncomfortable about.

I’m not going to say that everyone should see this film, as it’s not exactly the easiest thing to sit through (and I cannot see myself ever re-watching this)… but in the face of why this film is being talked about, I will say that people really should watch it before commenting on it. You may not like it; hell, you may even hate it, but you would at least know what you’re getting angry about. And if you’re reading this and thinking all of that is unnecessary because of the subject matter and how heinous it is, I’m surprised your knee-jerk reactions to things allowed you to even get this far into the review.

Again, I know that getting aggressive isn’t a good look, but as you can probably tell from what I’ve written, I’m more than a little annoyed that a film this genuinely necessary is getting such a hard time from people who, quite frankly, are saying the same shit that the film itself is.

2 comments:

  1. I understand the point that the film is trying to make, but I still have reservations regarding the detailed and gratiutous portrayal of the children themselves. A comparison of the film that I found would be how the opening of Reefer Madness cautioned against the use and hiding of weed, while showing in detail how to both roll and blunt and how marijuana was hidden at the time. https://youtube.com/watch?v=lGITudIVBE8
    This video sums up the (non-impulsive) critiques I've seen.

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