BOYS DON’T CRY
Kimberly Peirce, the director of Boys Don’t Cry, was born in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania in 1967. Her childhood was punctuated by moving, first to New York City then to Miami. While studying at the University of Chicago, Peirce spent two years in Japan studying photography, eventually moving back to New York City to become a photography intern at Time magazine. Pierce later enrolled at Columbia University to pursue an MFA in film. It was here that she first began to conceptualize her debut feature film, Boys Don’t Cry, after learning of the story of Brandon Teena from a Village Voice article.
What is unique to the female perspective and the female gaze in Boys Don’t Cry is that it explores the idea of the female perspective and female gaze both through a transgender lens and through a masculine lens. What’s most unique about this film is that it manages to do both simultaneously. Hillary Swank’s character, the trans man Brandon Teena, is the film’s protagonist and drives not just the story but also the perspective, thus imbuing the film’s frames with the distinct gaze of that of a trans man. Furthermore, he serves as the proxy perspective for the films auteur, Kimberley Pierce, a queer woman. Instead of having the two perspectives exist in contrast, she allows her frame to become a fusion of story teller and main character in a complimentary way, and creates a hybrid gaze that is entirely unique to Boys Don’t Cry.
The rite of passage that Boys Don’t Cry explores via its protagonist Brandon Teena is one of self actualization. Brandon is attempting to reinvent himself in the image and gender he has always known himself to be, but that society is unwilling to allow him to express. The behavior he engages in throughout the story would not typically be considered noteworthy cinematically, but the identity struggle in play gives this behavior its unique story arc. Kimberly Peirce is able to bring fresh perceptive to this story not only in her choice of subject matter but also given her own identity as a self described “genderqueer” woman. At the time this movie came out, trans individuals were scarcely humanized on screen, more often than not being reduced to harmful stereotypes or subjected to blatant ridicule. One of the only examples that comes to mind is that of Al Pacino’s partner in Dog Day Afternoon, yet even that iconic movie indulges in the novel tropes of being transgender. Peirce takes great care to avoid these tropes, instead presenting Teena as perhaps even more human in his bid for love and self realization than the other cis characters that surround him. In this way, the director navigates sexual and gender taboos in a way that is not sensational but rather empathetic and objective, finding commonalities in the human experience that transcend gender and orientation.
I would not say that Boys Don’t Cry necessarily sheds new light on the mother/daughter, sisterhood, and family relationships but that it does explore these relationships in an original way. The relationship between Lana’s friend Candace and Brandon is especially touching, as throughout the story Candace embodies a certain maternal role for Brandon that he has been starved of. She has a knowing love and sympathy for him that endows him with the confidence and support he needs to pursue his desires. Furthermore, the relationship between Lana and Brandon, though romantic in nature, is often tinged with a sense of sisterhood. Though Brandon is a trans man, the female anatomy that he is born with allows him to relate to the female struggle he observes Lana experiencing throughout the film as well. This empathetic sisterhood serves as a device that brings them closer in a unique way that only this film could.
Boys Don’t Cry does pass the Bechdel Test. It does have at least two women in it, they do talk to one another, and often it is about things other than a man. It gets tricky and potentially problematic when considering where Hillary Swank’s character fits into this. Swank is obviously a female actress. However, her character, Brandon Teena, is a trans man, though he is pre-op so he still has a female anatomy. The character of Brandon does not qualify as a female character, insofar as trans men are men. However, he is portrayed by a female actress. This provides a unique duality of representation in terms of Swank’s portrayal of Brandon.
Boys Don’t Cry has several indelible scenes throughout it that evoke a range of emotions, from unbridled love to bigoted horror. The first scene that comes to mind is when Chloe Sevigny’s character, Lana Tisdale, the girlfriend of Brandon Teena, confronts Brandon post his arrest as to why he was placed in the women’s section of the jail. Though Brandon attempts to lie to her, fearful Lana will not love him for the truth of who he really is, Lana tells him that her love for him is independent of the details of his gender identity. This scene is incredibly moving and a rare happy moment in the film, a stark contrast to the endless string of bigotry and discrimination Brandon experiences against the backdrop of the prejudiced south.
Another indelible scene/sequence occurs in the final act of the film, when the story’s main two antagonists, ex-convicts named Tom and John, confront Brandon for being transgender. They physically corner him in a bathroom and intimidate him into undressing and showing his genitals, while attempting to force Lana to bear witness, which she refuses. The scene is heartbreaking for many reasons, including the brutal humiliation of Brandon and the heart wrenching confusion imposed on the relationship between Lana and Brandon. But certainly the most heartbreaking and horrifying moments come afterwards, when Brandon is brutally assaulted both physically and sexually. The film is shot in a hyper realistic style, almost evoking cinema verite, which makes this particular sequence especially hard to watch.
Boys Don’t Cry certainly received the recognition it deserved. It was nominated for a host of Oscars and other awards, and became a zeitgeist talking point with significant staying power. Additionally, it became a critical darling, with respected film critics, cultural journalists, and members of the film industry lauding its take on the classic forbidden love story. The merit of its artistry speaks for itself, but the platform that gave this artistry the ability to soar to the heights that it did is what makes this movie so special. Though the archetype is time tested, the subject matter was fresh and original and in many ways, the first of its kind.
The movie industry has undergone wholesale changes since Boys Don’t Cry was released. There been a major cultural reckoning with the anglo-patriarchal powers that be, allowing historically marginalized voices and stories to be given the space and time to explore and empower. Women, people of color, and the queer community have all been afforded a long awaited seat at the table, and as a result, we now see many movies of the same ilk as Boys Don’t Cry not only being made but being celebrated independent of their rarity or uniqueness. Whereas part of Boys Don’t Cry’s celebrity was that it was such a new, standalone type of subject matter against the backdrop of Y2K Hollywood, were it to come out now, it would be regarded simply as a powerful story, and not necessarily put into a box of isolated queer filmmaking. This is representative of the changes in the industry since, and certainly owing in part to, Boys Don’t Cry.
