Sexual Duality in The African Queen (1951)
The classical film offers a relationship in which each partner’s individual traits merge to create an enjoyable interplay of emotions.
By MARIANNE WAPLES
Hollywood is notorious for romantically pairing two stars of the opposite sex and diametrically divergent values. Among other things, film scholar Rick Altman calls this “sexual duality” (33). Musicals and romantic comedies encourage this male-female opposition all the time via categories like costume, age, profession, manners, and national origin.
A good example of a film that promotes sexual duality is Grease (1978), which pairs a virginal and mannered blonde girl from Australia (Olivia Newton John) with a sexually experienced and uncultured dark-haired guy from California (John Travolta). In the end, their contrasting personality traits merge to form the perfect couple.
See also classical films like It Happened One Night (1934), Bringing Up Baby (1938), and An American in Paris (1951), or more recently ones like Pretty Woman (1990), Bridget Jones’ Diary (2001), and The Proposal (2009).
On occasion, audiences find this notion of “sexual duality” in other Hollywood genres — for example, in action-adventure films like The African Queen (John Huston, 1951).
In The African Queen, Rose Sayer (Katherine Hepburn) is a snobby, well-educated missionary, and Charlie Allnut (Humphrey Bogart) is an irascible, seasoned riverboat captain. Since virtually the entire film focuses only on these two, audiences get to experience a rich, complicated love relationship in which each partner’s individual traits ultimately merge to create an enjoyable interplay of emotions.
Charlie’s personality is direct, rough, plain-spoken (much like Bogart’s offscreen persona). He is a drinker and a smoker. He is adventurous, fun-loving, and authentic. He candidly speaks his mind, however clumsily it might appear to others. For example, while having dinner with Rose and her brother — again, they’re missionaries, mind you — Charlie’s stomach continues to growl. He admits he “can’t do a damn thing about it.” Words such as coarse and colorful are called to mind with Bogart’s Charlie Allnut.
On the other end of the spectrum, Hepburn’s Rose is conventional, composed, straight-laced, and cultured. She is concerned about appearances. For example, toward the end of The African Queen, before she and Charlie torpedo a German gunship, she wants to clean their vessel, scrubbing decks and polishing brass. Unlike Charlie, Rose is discrete and serious. She reads and quotes from the Bible, and her dying brother perceives her as “comely.”
Based on this sexual duality, Charlie seems dangerous to Rose — his propensity for gin in great quantities, his lack of manners and decorum, his work ethic and lack of interest toward a loftier goal. In turn, Rose seems too straight-laced for Charlie. She insists on conventions — calling him “Mr. Allnut” even though the two are floating around in the middle of a jungle surrounded by wild animals in a dilapidated riverboat.
Still, as Rose and Charlie grow closer, the viewer witnesses a merging of personalities — even if some traits, perceptive viewers will notice, are subtly visible all along. For example, Charlie isn’t always rough: throughout, he uses manners like Excuse me and Thank you. And when Rose’s brother is dead, he says to her, “Do you have a shovel? I suspect the Reverend would want to be buried in the shade.” Further, Rose isn’t so discrete that she doesn’t shed her modesty to let Charlie into the sheltered part of the riverboat at night during a torrential downpour.
The couple comes to accept each others’ habits. Rose grows tolerant of Charlie’s smoking, drinking, and coarse(r) ways. As Charlie becomes more goal-directed, Rose becomes more open-minded. They both become more creative and charming, and they gain respect for each other. Charlie nicknames her Rosie, old girl, and dear. And dropping the formal title Mr. Allnut, Rose eventually calls Charlie dearest and darling. They laugh together.
Throughout The African Queen, Charlie and Rose function as three-dimensional and courageous characters. And even if they are continuing Hollywood’s fixation on this notion of “sexual duality,” their relationship is ultimately about paying attention, finding value, and being open-minded. And that’s why The African Queen is a classical Hollywood film everyone should see.
