In Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire, we finally steer away from seeing intimacy through the male gaze
The portrayal of lesbians in mainstream cinema tends to involve prosthetic vaginas and gratuitous sex scenes; so Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire comes as a breath of fresh air. It is the story of the burgeoning relationship between two young women – emancipated artist Marianne (Noémie Merlant), who is commissioned to paint a portrait of sexually repressed Héloïse (Adèle Haenel), leading to a heated romance.
On paper, it looks like the classic lesbian cinematic narrative – there is a buildup of tension, they finally kiss, and then their possibility of a future together seems doomed. However, what makes Portrait of a Lady on Fire different is its heightened self-awareness. The film is constructed with lesbian representation in mind through careful interrogation of the lesbian gaze. There is a lot of looking. Marianne looks at Héloïse because she has to secretly paint her, and Héloïse looks at Marianne out of curiosity. Eventually, there is a shift in the way they start looking at each other – out of desire.