Shiva Baby (2021)

Before I start, I feel the need to clarify that by bisexual, I’m talking about sexuality directed towards members of more than one gender identities. I’ll admit that the clarification will seem pointless since the films I’m about to mention barely involve characters who aren’t either male or female. However, that is due to the lack of gender-queer representation in media and not how I personally perceive bisexuality.

Now, bi-erasure, for those who might not know, simply identifies the often common phenomenon of bisexuality not being acknowledged. This can be in cinema, music, art, novels, or even in real life. This has happened to every community that falls under the umbrella term 'queer', you might be thinking. However, bisexuality has a more prominent history of being subjected to this. Bisexual coming-out scenes are extremely scarce, and most bisexual stories acknowledge only homosexual tendencies or otherwise just portray bisexuality as a phase or an experimental experience. It sometimes manifests from the urge to steer narratives away from heteronormativity. In an attempt to portray heteronormativity negatively, homosexual experiences are highlighted to the point where bisexuality doesn’t get acknowledged. So is it really queer-positive if it comes at the cost of bi-erasure?

A very common form of bi-erasure is when a character who’s only had heterosexual experiences, starts experiencing homosexual tendencies and is then shown to realize that they were homosexual all along and pretended to be heterosexual. This is bi-erasure because quite often, the character might just be bisexual, and by saying they finally realized they’re gay, the narrative is essentially erasing the possibility of the character being bi. If only a few stories were of this kind, it wouldn’t be an issue, but this is extremely rampant (Brokeback Mountain, Call Me By Your Name, and Teorema to name a few, are all considered to be gay films).

One of the most classic examples of bi-erasure from Hollywood in the 21

Century is Jennifer’s Body. Starring Megan Fox as the titular Jennifer, the film was marketed as an overly sexual horror film that specifically caters to the male gaze of heterosexual adolescents. However, its cinematography is abundant in the female gaze, which usually includes focusing on hands, lips, and eyes, sensuously but emotionally perceiving the characters on screen. The male gaze, on the other hand, tends to focus on the body itself, with a certain lust in its framing of female characters specifically. Plus, Jennifer Check actually says the words “I go both ways” in reference to her sexual preference. Still, being perceived as a heterosexual narrative is blatant bi-erasure. However, I have good news for you. The film is being re-evaluated and reclaimed as an important work in queer horror.

In the age of Gen Z, Tik Tok, and podcasts, the generational divide has never been so prominent. One thing that definitely divides the generations is our taste in movies. Horror has become a reliable box office earner thanks in large part to younger audiences seeking chills and thrills. However, Bodies Bodies Bodies directed by Halina Reijn, is perhaps the first major slasher to highlight the relationship Gen Z has with itself, all while navigating a murder whodunnit plot. 

Bodies Bodies Bodies, the latest from indie powerhouse studio A24, is a great time. It is full of dark comedy laughs, great performances, and genuine scares. Although, many have wondered, does the film make fun of Gen Z or support it? The answer is a little bit of both. 

When the film opens, we meet a group of friends readying for a “hurricane party.” They party and prepare for the storm when the suggestion of a game comes about. Even before the game starts, there is tension among the group. It is easy to understand that many of the group members have had issues with each other before tonight. The game brings this tension to a boiling point, as someone actually ends up dead. Once the accusations start flying about murder and petty issues with their friends, it makes it difficult for them to remember who is an enemy and who is a treasured friend. 

This is where the film's strongest element lies. The film doesn’t seek to scold Gen Z, nor does it seek to suggest they don’t have problems. They do, just as every generation does. The only difference is that this generation has the internet and social media at the ready for any life update they choose to share. 

The film seeks to hold a mirror up to Gen Z and show them what their weaknesses are, but also their strengths. The film never portrays the friends as helpless, even with a possible killer on the loose and being in the middle of a brutal hurricane. It also never portrays them as obsessed with their phones, as many “boomers” believe to be true and often include in films. They are able-minded, quick-witted, and ready to fight if need be. Yes, there are jokes that riff on the stereotypical Gen Z person, but it is evident that the screenplay wants to poke at them, not shame them. 

A messy millennial in an on-and-off relationship with liminal job prospects has been a saturated archetype since Lena Dunham stretched it to its limit for 5 years in her series Girls. It has been haphazardly recreated in many character study-esque television series and tries to worm its way in as b-plots in coming-of-age films. Occasionally it demonstrates the nuanced fragmentation of love in a confusing world of blurred relationship boundaries and dying hopes in the gig economy. More often it gets reduced to shallow deep-fakes of toxic relationships with graphics of text bubbles and blaming the woman at the center of the narrative for her poor choice in a partner. However, the female-fronted film Shiva Baby takes a fresh perspective on the trope that mirrors experience and compels emotion in this dizzying dark comedy.

The film follows down-on-her-luck college graduate Danielle’s (Rachel Sennott) day at a shiva featuring her obliviously overbearing parents, bubbies with invasive advice, and her manic ex-girlfriend. Oh, also her sugar daddy — plus his wife and baby she wasn’t informed about. (For the goyim who don’t know, a “shiva” is a 7-day mourning period after a funeral. Basically a week-long after-party for the living without any of the fun but plenty of the snacks.) While that sounds like a somber setting to explain the evolutions of romantic, sexual, and familial relationships, a confined space for the grieving is actually perfect in expressing the restrictive ideas of elders and the frightening idea of being static in one’s life. The deliberate editing and camerawork juxtapose this in an anxiety-provoking way, with abrupt cuts and head-nodding shakes, that often places you in the scene and leaves your brain viscerally rattled by experiencing her anxiety second-hand.

The primary story between Dani and Max (the December to her May) is so craftily done without on-the-nose dramatics and avoids falling into repetitive arches, especially those about infidelity or sex work. She is not the “homewrecker” who brings the destructive revelations to light or seems to be engaging in sex work in a desperate attempt to survive. She doesn’t even have the ever-prescribed daddy issues for a sex worker character, but rather has a toxic relationship with her mother if anything. Even the “other woman”, Kim (played by Dianna Agron), doesn’t get outwardly jealous or vicious when her suspicions become too obvious to ignore. Instead, Agron gives a tremendous performance in her small role with a piercing togetherness that refuses to be broken (or acknowledged) despite the cheating man stuck at her side.

Even Max is not shown to be sleazy but is presented as a “nice Jewish boy”, as Dani’s parents describe him. On the surface, Max has a successful job, a wealthy family, a beautiful wife, and a darling baby. However, his sexual exploits reveal a lasting theme in the film that appearances, no matter how immaculate, are filled with cracks if looked at closely enough. We first meet Dani and Max after one of their sexual encounters. Surprisingly, he is quite affectionate towards Dani and talks about how he wants to financially support a young woman going to law school. He has convinced himself that what he is doing is a good deed rather than an exploitative deed that belies his perfect paternal image. The film doesn’t hold back in calling out his performative “support” since he doesn’t actually care about the power imbalance that is the foundation for the whole relationship. The subtle acting and dialogue (that expertly relies on overhearing conversations and subtextual pleasantries) show the lack of accountability and acknowledgment that is being taken — and most likely never will be. Image is everything, and Dani’s commitment to keeping up everyone else’s plus her own is faltering.

Danielle is presented as somewhere between a child and woman, displaced and disparaged at the thought of her two worlds colliding with a humanizing portrayal of her experience. She is ill-prepared to be thrown into the world of 9–5 with her “business of gender” major, feeling directionless and attempting to maintain a lifestyle through the increasingly popular industry of sex work. She is trying to carry this enormous secret on her back while balancing the dual disappointment and coddling by her parents at her every turn. On top of this, her much more successful ex, Maya, is there, which causes constant academic comparisons that haunt each conversation as well as her previous “failures,” like her weight loss, to be rehashed. Essentially, she is only in her early 20s and feels the pressures of trying to have it all in a world aimed against those who will inherit it.

Happy Holi, Passover, and beginning of Spring from all of us here at Incluvie!

With the start of the new season we're excited for all of the April new movie releases, some of which our writers here will cover in individual reviews throughout the month. Check back daily for new movie reviews from our team!