Catwoman
Halle Berry, Benjamin Bratt, Sharon Stone
Directed by Pitof
It is rare that a major Hollywood film comes along bearing any significance to the medium at large, and even rarer that it does so in a manner so subtly, so slyly, so flawlessly that its innovations are sadly bound to transcend the ideologies of those who stand to gain the most from it.
At first glance, director Pitof seems to present us with a generic tale of revenge, the beleaguered protagonist struggling to right the wrongs perpetrated against them by a clandestine and inexorable nemesis. And, at an extremely base level (most likely in deference to the notably unscrupulous theatre-going public), it is. But it is the subtext and nuance present within the piece that raises it far above its contemporaries to a level previously limited to such films as Wakamatsu’s Go, Go Second Time Virgin and Barney’s Cremaster successions.
Emerging both literally and figuratively from the refuse of society, the character of Catwoman (nee Patience Philips) as played by Berry is one of multilayered dynamics; the transition from meek everywoman to paaiyan antihero reflects a knowing adherence to the Hero Journey archetype while at the same time experimenting with its basest concepts. Taking the conceit of Campbell’s belly of the whale and apotheosis elements and turning them on their heads, Berry gives us a unique and yet fully developed character to whom we can aspire, and yet not truly comprehend.
While the basic plot consists of the Catwoman character avenging her wrongful assault by the hands of beauty-product icon Laurel Hedare (portrayed here by Sharon Stone and in no small way based upon cosmetics icon Estee Lauder), the more vital and interesting struggle is that of the working person against the impersonal nature of enterprise, an at-times vitriolic dig at the very nature of capitalism. The worker-cum-ubermensch juxtopathosis acts more upon the spectrum of Lang than that of Raimi, the struggle of the individual against uniformity overtaking the bromidic hero archetype. Even the eponymous heroine’s costuming reflects this deeper theme, with the misaligned zippers and exposed flesh mirroring the defiance of technology and the sexual repression of the personage by social mores, respectively.
All things considered, the film dares to experiment with ferninst symbolism and ex nihilo narrative modality, and as such may alienate the common viewer. The hope remains, though, that the New Postmodernist directors of the contemporary era can yet learn and explore such daring territories.