Framing
The willingness of David Ayer to step outside of his own perspective means that he creates visuals and framing that work specifically in support of each character, rather than his own white male gaze. When he films the character of Deadshot, he is not shooting his idea of what it would be like to be a black man in prison worrying about his daughter’s future – nor is he shooting his idea of what it would be like to be a black man fighting under the supervision of a prejudiced white man (Rick Flag).
Instead, he effectively hands the lens to Deadshot and, as a result, we feel every emotional beat of his motivation to provide his daughter with opportunity in a world that will inevitably refuse to offer it to her. We feel the rage and pain caused by Rick Flag’s constant stream of insults and assumptions, and the frustration of being boxed in by circumstances that allow for neither retaliation, nor easy demonstration of why those assumptions are wrong.
When Harley Quinn is front and centre, Ayer hands the lens to the men around her – framing her each time so as to highlight the way in which she is being objectified in the male dominated environments she continually finds herself in. There is a subtle distinction, however, between this, and actually objectifying Harley for the titillation of the audience. This is best highlighted by the scene in which she changes into her chosen outfit before being deployed into the field. The camera approaches her from a low angle, and slowly moves up her body as we realize that she is out of her orange jumpsuit, and has donned some sparkly hotpants.
As the camera rises, she is just pulling a T-shirt down over her bra. Clearly, the implication is that she has stripped off and re-dressed – but the camera remains tight on Harley for a moment, before gradually pulling away into a wider shot. Now we see that she is still standing in the middle of a yard, and is surrounded by men who have all stopped to silently watch her – mouths agape. Harley finally looks up, looks around, and asks, “What?”
This framing tells us that it doesn’t even cross Harley’s mind that she wouldn’t change her outfit right there. Why shouldn’t she? We’ve seen plenty of shirtless men around the place by this point – why is it different for women? From her perspective (as the camera is tightly focused on her) her actions are nothing to do with sexuality or the seeking of attention. She is simply choosing an outfit and getting changed. In that moment, she is oblivious to the reactions of those around her, because they are irrelevant. It places the emphasis on the behaviour of the men, who are literally standing there objectifying her. It is the observer that is sexualizing the character right then – not Harley – and this is further highlighted, elsewhere in the film, when Harley is being purposefully flirtatious. Compare this to the ridiculous, generalized, leering framing of women in other superhero movies (such as the characters of Black Widow or Catwoman), and the difference is clear.
The way in which Ayer frames Amanda Waller changes again, to reflect her actual character as opposed to his interpretation of her. Many of her scenes are filmed with her centred in the frame, either standing, or simply square on to her head and shoulders. It is almost confrontational, and in almost every scene, she is facing down a group of men. In the early restaurant scene, in the Situation Room, in the shooting range test of Deadshot – Waller is pitted against a male group that she either has to convince, or dominate. In both cases, her method does not change. She is determined, cunning and ambitious, and she makes no apology for any of it.
The framing of Waller includes no aspect of objectification, which perfectly contrasts the framing of Harley Quinn. Both women exist in male dominated environments – the difference is, men are scared of Waller, but are fascinated by Quinn, and both women are acutely aware of the effect they have on others. Having women in a film – as main characters – framed so differently to accentuate the individuality of their characters is virtually unheard of in the comic book movie genre. Women in these movies have traditionally been depicted as some kind of homogenous species with a hive mind. The women of Suicide Squad – Quinn, Waller, Katana and Enchantress – are definitely not that.
Published: Aug 30, 2016 01:14 pm