Kill Bill Hides a Male Adolescent Taste for Violence
Introduction
The claim risks becoming rather self-defeating. It assumes that violence is
a predominantly masculine trait but betrays confusion about its stance on
masculinity and aggression. One must choose whether violence defines men,
or men define violence; this question tries to sustain both possibilities
simultaneously and ends up subtly promoting a masculine stereotype. If men
are inherently violent, they cannot be blamed for finding it everywhere. It
defines them and so much of what they see. This "naturally violent" understanding
of masculinity then operates as an apology for male behaviour. A woman expressing
aggression, the question implies, is an aberration.
Rather than "female aggression", the awkwardly contradictory term "female
masculinity" has been chosen- suggesting that women cannot be aggressive or
have a "taste for violence" but can only be violent under the guise of a male
because violence is male by definition. Although comparatively rare, it is
quite obvious that women are capable of aggression, to the point of atrocity,
too. The equation of maleness with violence is not fallacious, but it is not
the whole picture.
Indeed, the patriarchal society is so antithetical to female violence that
women will often have to go through the channels of the "male adolescent"
just to be able to express their natural aggression at all. In the unaccommodating
patriarchy that often refuses to acknowledge female drive and aggression,
the nearest default category for the adult woman, if she is to feature on
a social radar at all, is often that of the brutal, burgeoning male.
Tarantino makes many strong statements about vengeance and redemption and
parenthood, but these are, perhaps, almost too overt. Although ostensibly
driving the film, these serious themes work too hard, embarrassingly obvious
attempts to afford the movie some critical credibility. Kill Bill is a misogynist
fantasy in a literal sense; it features appalling violence towards women-
but it must be taken in context. The murder of females in framed by the core
hierarchy: although the Bride has many women on her "list", her real target
is a male. The abuse of women is shocking in part simply because it is surprising
and unusual, and as a "pop video" stylisation, an allegory rather than anything
pertaining to realism, this film's "cat fights" are among the most spectacular,
brave, and beautiful in recent Hollywood history.
From one perspective Kill Bill depicts a world steeped in sexism of various
degrees of subtlety, from the repeated torments heaped upon Beatrix to the
punishments following from encounters with drunken Japanese businessmen and
Mexican pimps. The sexist males are occasionally dealt with with gory pyrotechnics
but the fact remains that every event in the film somehow springs awkwardly
from woman-hating attitudes. When Go Go butchers the geeky boy in the toilets,
the response is so excessive we can only conclude she is mad. This time, she
wasn't responding to sexism, just male sexual attraction- is Tarantino naively,
and rather insultingly, suggesting that the "feminist" response to natural
maleness is "ball breaking"? The lack of fit between the trigger and the response
muddies Tarantino's agenda. It is unclear whether he is misunderstanding feminism,
satirising it, or characterising female aggression as irrational hysteria.
The question is apt for the Bride, too- whose agenda is driven entirely by
paranoia, and whose cold psychosis makes her cartoonishly two dimensional
and unsympathetic.
Although the film circulates around themes of sexism (crassly illustrated
on both sides) and misogyny, it does not necessarily follow that the movie
is condemnable, lazy, or worthless. As Kill Bill is concerned with abuse,
abuse of everyone and everything in every direction, it "corners the market"
on it, and vindicates itself for continually representating it. Depicting
is not the same as endorsing, but it can be. Tarantino has a poor track record
with making the distinction- his Pulp Fiction enfatuation with the word "nigger"
springs instantly to mind. Racism was, apparently, amusing to Tarantino, and
he enjoyed exploiting it in Pulp Fiction. In Kill Bill, however, he has constructed
in sexism the most pervasive and intangible challenge faced by Beatrix. Clearly
just investing the Bride with surprising, virtually supernatural violence
does not constitute "postfeminist" empowerment and perhaps one of the more
unfortunate and masculine" of the protagonist's characteristics is her inability
or unwillingness to fight the less obvious but more pervasive sexism on any
more than the most personal level.
The fact that Beatrix does nothing to change this world of endemic misogyny,
of Pussy Wagons and "I seen better", might hint that the apparently woman-hating
frame around her character is not, in fact, the point. Like any mythological
hero, the Bride finds her mission directed by symbols, and the glaring misogyny
that appears to form the background of her world is not to be taken too literally.
The regular markers of woman-hating in Kill Bill are, it seems to me, not
to be read as anything more than extensions of the semiotic value of the core
misogynist: Bill. Bea's anger towards him has extended into a general wrath
to all those associated with her injustice, many of whom happened to be women,
but this does not amount to a "masculine" hatred of the female, on her part.
Nor does it amount to a feminine hatred of females, or any kind of irrational
or juvenile aggression that might be suggested in "male adolescent taste for
violence." Bea's psychological association of everyone responsible for her
tragedy is identical to the semiotic connection of all the misogynistic events
and characters in the film. This film is after all hyper real, a fantasy and
a myth before it is anything else, and as such must be read as a symphonic
expression of semiotic and psychological equivalence.
There is a sense in which Kill Bill's violence relates us directly to the
protagonist's psychological, and visceral, condition. The violence is graphic
and extreme, yet it somehow avoids abstraction, resensitizing us, sometimes
(as with Buck), refusing the temptation to glamorise or excuse brutality.
The deaths are deliberate and deliberated, from the shocking murder of the
"Housewife" in the first scene to the demise of each one of the Crazy 88,
we are made aware of the loss of a real live human being. There is nothing
faceless about the violence in Kill Bill, suggesting to me that this is not
mindless violence, glamourising or desensitising us, although it is not quite
the opposite, either.
