Jessica Jones & The Absence of The Male Gaze
I blasted through the series within the first four days of my semester break at the recommendation of a friend. Although to be honest, I could have made it two. I was late to the game but was well-informed by the hype on my Facebook feed and Tumblr dashboard, littered with articles and analyzes being shared, that Netflix stayed true to Jessica’s gritty backstory while establishing a sort of feminist voice that courses through the show.
Evidently, Jessica Jones details the trauma of having personal agency robbed from oneself especially when that entails having blood on one’s hands, which one never wanted or intended to spill. Many viewers have pointed out that this aspect of Jessica’s story alone is enough to express the horror of rape, not forgetting that Kilgrave did do the deed as he forced himself onto Jessica, Hope and presumably many others.
While rape, amongst other sexual crimes, have made its way to plots on television through shows like Law & Order: SVU, there’s something inherently different about Jessica Jones, despite also becoming a platform for public discourse on feminist issues without making it “too political”.
It dawned on me by the third episode: there are so many women in this show. So many different female characters — the anti-hero battling some traumatic events from her past while keeping her present in balance; the admirable, courageous but sometimes naive sidekick; the cold-blooded boss who is selfish in every way; the beaten and bruised victim who is barely coping; the hurt and disappointed ex-lover who is at a loss…
While all these can play into character archetypes, the heavy dose of realism that washes the entire series with an unmistakably dark heaviness balances the drama and humanity so well that these characters do not become “gendered”. Beyond being just female characters, they are real people, they are individuals. Simply put: you do not need to be female to identify with them. It’s not that TV shows don’t do this, but most of the time it’s the male characters that get away with being whole human beings, and the female characters are largely subjected to the male gaze.
The Male Gaze in Other Media of The Superhero Genre
Well thinking back, (and I could be wrong about this) there weren’t any scenes of a female or the female body being sexualised — where the female is shown only because she’s attractive or possesses a great deal of sex appeal. Sure, there are a shit ton of sex scenes. But the lack of fan-service in the sense where scenes are shot to garner the effect of “ooh she’s so hot” is what keeps the show on the neutral ground and I appreciate it. Those kinds of shots really make you, the audience, obvious and present in the foreign universe of the film.
I think being a member of the audience is a privilege. Most of the time, you become a ghost, aware of everything that unfolds. You don’t participate, but as you comfortably lean against the fluffed-up pillows on your bed, with a bowl of Doritos in one hand, you are presented with a damn good story for your enjoyment.
Think about the several ass-shots of Gamora in Guardians of the Galaxy? Was that essential to the story, or even to Star Lord’s attraction towards her? No. It was largely for the fanboys. Created by fellow fanboys. I guess my problem with that is it takes away from the authenticity and wholeness of the plot.
Not to mention, Winn’s reaction to Kara in the tight-fitting red and blue costume in Supergirl. We get it, she’s beautiful and she has a slammin’ hot bod to boot. But watching that scene while cast interviews on how this show would be so empowering for young girls of today rung in my head, made me so uncomfortable. That underlying sentiment of approval and validation is beyond unnecessary.
In Jessica Jones, they didn’t have to acknowledge how attractive Krysten Ritter and Rachael Taylor are — because dude, we know that already, we are looking right at them! And they didn’t.
Within the context of (social) issues the show tackles, the absence of this recognition of a women’s physical attributes is also helpful in the discourse on rape and assault. Everyone knows the favourite “reasons” for why rapists rape — because the victim was super sexy, super provocative, too alluring to give a miss?
By not giving any attention to the appearance of these characters, especially Jessica, the show does not entertain these excuses — because it’s not about how one looks or dresses but it completely falls on the rapist, the assaulter, the nasty piece of shit who made a choice for someone without consent, purely for his own selfish reasons.
Ultimately, Jessica Jones is a focused but extremely detailed 13-episode character study of who this woman is and why her story needs to be told (even if she’s entirely fictional).
Story-wise, it’s simple enough — it’s about Jessica Jones. It’s everything about what makes her tick, why she is who she is, who she cares about, what she does in certain circumstances. Of course, the answer to many of these questions is “Kilgrave” so it helps that he’s really the only villain in this story. It’s a simple narrative, without feeling the need to add in twists and turns in other characters. Yet it develops and explores the other side-characters pretty damn well (ie. Trish Walker). Although to be fair, Will Simpson became somewhat villainous but follows the anti-villain trajectory better.
Jessica isn’t painted as THE superhero. Her actions are really selfish, she ultimately wants to wipe that slate of guilt clean because she knows many who suffer at the hands of Kilgrave are only in those unfortunate circumstances because he wants to make her feel bad for it. There is an underlying tenderness in Jessica that balances her super strength and rage very well, but ultimately she’s a just regular person who cares enough about those around her while trying to keep herself in check, but with enhanced abilities.
And another thing about Jessica — her jadedness. She had the opportunity to sacrifice herself and freedom to be Kilgrave’s moral compass that will essentially make him a superhero. But she chose not to. She knows that’s bullshit. She won’t do this for him or for the “common good”. And she really doesn’t need to do it at all. She has every right to think only for herself.
This absence of Steve Roger’s brand of “nobility”, is what makes her super. Unlike many male superheroes, she isn’t given the option to be a martyr like Iron Man was when he gave up his life flying into the porthole, or that of Star Lord’s when he floated into space to save Gamora.
Jessica’s “martyrdom” would have involved a prolonged suffering living with her rapist. It wouldn’t just end her life in a second, but would kill her every second she spends with her tormentor. Do you see the way these the superhero genre often depicts “sacrifice”? But Jessica Jones tells us that romanticization is uncalled for. The anti-hero that she is, she has her own lawless way of doing things. Forget that naive idealism. Superheroes can retain their agency, freedom and happiness too.
Thank you, Jessica, for showing me what it means to be authentic, even if I may not have my shit together.
(A version of this was published on my Tumblr one month ago. For other interesting perspectives on Jessica Jones, here’s one that discussed the show’s portrayal of trauma and PTSD)
