Ok, so I haven’t gone slightly mad, this is a post I’ve been working on for a while. It’s actually from an essay I wrote a few years back (with slight modifications and lots of pictures!). Before anyone says it, I know. Major freakin’ nerd alert, but hey, this makes me happy.
The common practice in Hollywood cinema of indulging the male viewer’s gaze towards a female ‘object’, is challenged through a clever manipulation of traditional stereotypes in Stanley Kubrick’s
Spartacus (1960). Unlike the familiar depiction of semi-naked women usually engaged in a type of performance that renders them desirable to the male spectator, (as well as unduly passive characters) in
Spartacus the men are subjected to a similar idea of display and spectacle. In order to entertain Hollywood’s ideology that in no way could “true masculinity…express itself undemocratically”, the male characters subjection to torture and sado-masochistic rituals serves as a form of eroticisation rather than sole punishment (Hark, 152).
In comparison to the familiar portrayal of female characters, male protagonists are displayed in scenes of violence and torture where their bodies are “eroticised through stripping or binding” (Hark, 152). This practice of reversing the traditional male gaze is interesting as Ina Rae Hark observes; how does one allow for the male characters who lack the construction of masculinity in its entirety, to acquire the station of a “natural male position in patriarchy?” (Hark, 152). Such characters in Spartacus who lack the full construction of what is considered by Hollywood to be ‘normal’ masculinity include, Spartacus himself, Draba and Antoninus. The character of Crassus is interesting in this context. As shall be discussed later, he is in direct contrast to Spartacus in many ways, particularly in his delight at watching the gladiators being humiliated and displayed almost entirely for his pleasure, a similar idea to that of the male gaze directed towards the female ‘object’. Thus, the aim of this essay is to critically examine how the male body is spectacularised and displayed in Spartacus. To begin with it is interesting to examine in detail the specific characters that are spectacularised in Spartacus. Also, to look at why in particular this spectacularisation is significant in comparison to the traditional treatment of the female protagonist in the Hollywood system.
In Kubrick’s Spartacus, the sequences where the gladiators are trained to fight, clearly demonstrates the notion of “the enslaved male” as well as creating a spectacle for the displaying of the male body (Hark, 153). Spartacus, Draba and Antoninus are main examples of such spectacularisation. At the beginning of the film, Spartacus is seen chained to a rock awaiting starvation as punishment for assisting a fellow slave. Batiatus’ interest in Spartacus in these early scenes is indicative of the notion of the enslaved male “and the systematic suppression of any move on his part to achieve subjectivity through mastery of the gaze” (Hark, 153). Spartacus is unable to move and is wise enough to remain silent when he is referred to by Batiatus as though he wasn’t present at the scene. It could be argued that this creates a sense of submission on Spartacus’ part, as he appears to resist any temptation to retort. On the other hand, the display of Spartacus’ body in this manner coupled with the humiliation of his punishment could be seen to evoke a sense of heroism surrounding the character. It is possibly due to Spartacus’ dignified silence throughout the film that his character has earned such respect from both his army of gladiators and viewers alike. Examples of this can be seen when Crassus demands that Spartacus show himself when the army is captured later on in the film. All the men stand up and declare
Draba and Spartacus
themselves to be Spartacus so that their leader won’t die for them, they will all die together. In terms of spectacularisation of the male body, Spartacus will not be displayed publicly alone when he is crucified; all his men will share in his degradation.
When Helena chooses Draba to face Spartacus in a fight, it is after a lengthy period of gazing at all the gladiators behind the bars that surround their habitat. It is also because Helena wishes for the “most beautiful” gladiator to fight and so chooses “the big, black one”. This is redolent of scenes in other historical epics, such as the banquet scene in Cleopatra (Mankiewicz, 1963). The difference between the latter and the above scene in Spartacus is that Mankiewicz’s Cleopatra notably depicts female dancers scantily dressed and gyrating around Marc Antony. In Spartacus, the chosen gladiators must fight to the death to entertain the nobles. This is an intriguing opposition to the Hollywood trend of depicting women in such a manner. Instead of dancing, the men are required to fight wearing just enough “for modesty” as Helena says. Thus, it could be suggested that this is a hyper-masculine narrative in its “rightful exercise of masculine power” (Hark, 152). As it is a narrative, which must demonstrate brute force and strength as well as a revealing display of the flesh, thus the biblical-Roman setting of the film enhances the notion of the male body as spectacle.
Crassus and Antoninus
The spectacularisation of the body of Antoninus is importantly entwined with the enigmatic presentation of Crassus’ sexuality, which shall be discussed later. Although Antoninus enters the film some time after Spartacus and Draba have been displayed as spectacle, it could be argued that the representation of Antoninus is a slightly more harrowing spectacle. The scene in which Crassus asks Antoninus, which he prefers – oysters, or snails – reflects clear homosexual undertones through a sense that Crassus takes pleasure in inviting a barely clad Antoninus into his bath. Antoninus’ rejection of the life that Crassus intends to offer him as his personal slave presents the viewer with a scenario that is set to be fatal. In joining Spartacus’ army of gladiators, Antoninus not only disregards the notion of spectacle that would be forced upon him had he stayed with Crassus, he also actively opposes the narrative construction ofRomeas a “potently masculine” entity (Hark, 166). Thus, Antoninus effectively appears to turn his back on the hyper-masculine and the spectacle of the male body that encompasses any collaboration with Rome.
When Antoninus joins Spartacus his reputation as a “singer of songs” and a teacher of the classics, coupled with his pretty, feminised appearance evoke disapproval from Spartacus when Antoninus asks to join the army as a gladiator. The notion of spectacle is again foregrounded when Antoninus entertains the army with tricks and in the process gives Spartacus an egg, which splatters yolk on the army leader instead of releasing a bird as was depicted when the other gladiators were given eggs. Here, Spartacus’ disregard for the possibility of Antoninus becoming a soldier in his army is recuperated by spectacle.
Richard Dyer outlines how male sexuality is narrowly represented through visual media by arguing that “visual symbolism not only reduces male sexuality to the penis…it also tends to separate men from their sexuality” (Dyer, 1993, 91). The character of Spartacus would appear to show signs of detachment from his sexuality, particularly as he cannot bring himself to sleep with Varinia when she is ordered to his cell. In scenes such as this Spartacus is covered up
Varinia is sent to Spartacus' cell
considerably, perhaps out of modesty, as he seems shy and uncertain of himself around Varinia initially. It becomes clear that Batiatus and Marcellus take great pleasure in assuming a form of power over Spartacus when they watch him with Varinia from behind the bars above his cell. This voyeuristic approach to the spectacle that is Spartacus’ supposed inability to consummate a relationship with a woman, is even more intriguing due to a mainstream disconnection with the ideology that a man may not be solely interested in a woman for her body. This could be suggested, as it would appear that Spartacus feels an instant connection and affection for Varinia as he maintains a gaze toward her that does not seem to be threatening.
Marcellus’ taunt to Spartacus would also suggest an attempt on Marcellus’ part to emasculate Spartacus as a result of the lack of power that he considers to be contained within a ‘mere’ gaze, “ Since all you can do is look at girls, go ahead and look, slave”. Ina Rae Hark similarly notes that “gazes are marked by their impotence” in Spartacus. Marcellus’ earlier attempt to anger Spartacus into retaliation during the training sessions, when Spartacus gazes at Varinia, are also indicative of this point and serve to remind the audience of Spartacus’ intelligence and dignity despite his trainers childlike taunting. In the scene, Marcellus’ demonstration of where the men should attack an opponent is eroticised through Spartacus’ lack of clothing as well as the different coloured paint that Marcellus sweeps over Spartacus’ chest. Although the movement is not gentle, the male body is presented as a tool for a demonstration and is used as though the person occupying it has no mind.
Also, the fact that Varinia and other women are sent to the gladiators’ cells for the evening demonstrates the familiar notion of Hollywood mainstream productions; the female is still considered some form of an object, to be viewed by the male for his pleasure and gratification. The female equivalent of this notion is not clearly identifiable in much of the Hollywood mainstream output. Chris Holmlund acknowledges Freud’s idea that “the body (our own and the Other’s) is the object and origin of our earliest fears and desires” (Holmlund, 2002, 17). In the opening scenes of Spartacus the audience learns that Spartacus was captured and used as a slave at the age of thirteen, Varinia was enslaved at the same age. As noted by Ina Rae Hark, one may draw the conclusion “that on this cusp of puberty both became available to Roman rape”, which would further suggest that the notion of spectacularisation is a continuing punishment for both Varinia and Spartacus (Hark, 162).
The slaves attack and destroy the prison
In leaving the system of slavery that he was brought into at the age of thirteen, Spartacus enters a new prison of spectacularisation and display. Through his leadership of the army of gladiators, Spartacus arguably takes on the role of a commander, one who must be accepted by all his men. Spartacus’ desire to enter into a system of some inherent symbolic order seems to be reminiscent of a small child who desires acceptance amongst his peers. Although he professes an undying love for Varinia, Spartacus claims to never have felt more alone even when he sleeps next to her. This it could be argued is a result of Spartacus’ imprisonment as a slave. Spartacus perhaps has this desire to belong to a system in order to give his life meaning and to gain power, an attribute that he has never known. The fact that his pride does not falter when faced with an enemy might suggest that as a slave Spartacus actually commands more power over himself than any Roman general. As Varinia points out to Crassus at the end of the film, his fear of Spartacus is rooted in the power that Spartacus obtained, which was demonstrated when his army answered to Crassus’ demand for Spartacus to show himself. In this way, the spectacle that was made of Spartacus by Marcellus earlier on is later turned around and Spartacus is replaced with Crassus.
Crassus’ demand for Antoninus and Spartacus to fight to the death is yet another form of spectacle, but the killing of Antoninus and the resulting crucifixion of Spartacus could be seen to reveal the cowardice in Crassus. If Crassus’ main objective was to eradicate Spartacus, he was in a position to slay Spartacus himself as he did with Draba. Perhaps the resulting crucifixion can be read as an affirmation of Varinia’s earlier realisation of Crassus’ fear and also as a final release for Spartacus from the cycle of spectacle that he has endured from the beginning of the film. In the moments after Antoninus’ killing, Crassus cannot exterminate his enemy; it would perhaps be unwise for him to attempt to do so anyway as he could not identify Spartacus despite having seen him before in an intimate space. This indicates not only his ignorance but also his unnatural obsession with spectacle as he orders all the gladiators to be crucified along the roadside, with Antoninus and Spartacus last.
Crassus as the dominant character for the last part of the film, may be seen as a combination of the phallus and the feminine at the same time. This may be read in such scenes as his attempted seduction of Antoninus in the bath and his
Crassus attempts to seduce Varinia
descriptions of Rome as “potently masculine, yet always female” (Hark, 166). In the earlier scene, Crassus speaks of his preference for oysters over snails and asks Antoninus for his opinion. The language used is soft and enquiring and the tone is similarly gentle. Yet Crassus’ inhabiting of a domineering male role, and one that enjoys making a spectacle of others, is always foregrounded as he continually points out that Antoninus is his personal slave. The mixture of sensuality and his obsessive occupation with Rome seems to encode Crassus as ambiguous in relation to gender distinction. This is exemplified when he refers to Rome as ‘her’, and implies a certain amount of ownership in his statement; “I shall not violate Rome at the moment of possessing her.”
Crassus’ delight as a spectator of spectacle is exemplified in the many occasions where he watches the humiliation of the various gladiators, particularly Spartacus. If this is the hyper-masculine side of his gender perhaps Crassus is a personification of Luce Irigaray’s idea that there should be “a separation of women from men” and in this process men
can establish “homosocial bonds” (Irigaray, 2004, 799). Crassus’ obsession with Rome and controlling ‘her’ without perverting her, has connotations to his fetishising of Antoninus and later, Varinia. When both characters reject his advances Crassus does not chase them as Hark notes (166). His infatuation seems to lie in possessing Rome, and in order to gain such power Crassus uses the bodies of others. Spartacus and Antoninus for example are kept until the last moment to be executed. When Crassus decides that they should fight to the death and the victor will be crucified, he provides the last site for the spectacularising of the male body within the film. Through the final spectacle that Crassus “compels Spartacus and Antoninus to enact before him” his attempt to thwart Varinia’s earlier warning that “nothing can help” is seemingly resolved (Hark, 167). Spartacus’ crucifixion arguably leaves Crassus’ “perverse and monstrous” masculinity intact, yet it could be argued that perhaps Crassus is now trapped within the spectacle that he set up for Spartacus and the gladiators (Hark, 168). Crassus must go on knowing that he has robbed families of their husbands and fathers, whilst Spartacus dies a slave, noble and finally free from further spectacle.
The male slaves occupy a weak, seated position whilst Varinia stands tall
Hollywood’s strict morals and codes for the golden age of film undoubtedly restricted the portrayals of certain characters and notions. Stanley Kubrick’s Spartacus is perhaps one of the exceptions, along with some of its predecessors such as Rebel Without a Cause (Ray, 1955) and Suddenly Last Summer (Mankiewicz, 1959). The spectacularising and eroticising of the male body in Spartacus provides an insight into homosexual practices that were evidently rampant at the time that the events actually took place. The film possibly suggests that the characters are all trapped despite the progression of the gladiators, even when they escape the training quarters, the audience is aware that they are never totally free. Spartacus’ pride in the identity that he has partly constructed for himself as a leader of men is never quite as admirable as his pride in acknowledging that he is a slave. Perhaps this is drawn from the fact that he had no choice in becoming a slave and has been forced to live with this identity. In the worst of situations, Spartacus appears to have reasoned with this identity and bears it as a symbol of mankind’s inability to have total control over life. When he is humiliated and put on display Spartacus’ silence and suffering create a sense of reality about the character, which enables empathy for his cause.
As the revolutionary ‘Other’, Spartacus does not appear to want subjection but as Ina Rae Hark argues, it is perhaps not possible for him to belong in any system without “taking from difference and producing subjection” (Hark, 154, 159). The subversion of roles in Spartacus, normally reserved for the female is interestingly manipulated to serve both the Hollywood studio system and the ideology of masculinity that has been prevalent in literature for so long. Spartacus arguably would require traditional feminine traits such as passivity in order “to offer himself up as spectacle” (Hark, 153). He knows that to strike out against orders from his masters would be fatal and keeps quiet in the style of a silent martyr. In this way the qualities associated with traditional male characters are subverted. A similar manner is
conducted with Varinia as she is not the established Hollywood norm. Throughout the film she reminds Spartacus of his strengths rather than allowing him to focus on his inability’s to read or master language, and at the end Varinia will not submit to Crassus desire. Instead she remains steadfast and strong despite the fact that she has only her son to live for at the end of the film. Thus, Varinia serves a purpose that complements the spectacularisation of the male body in Spartacus, she entered the film with the narrative purpose of providing Spartacus with love and affection and she leaves the narrative having fulfilled this purpose. As she leaves with Batiatus and her son in the cart, she is driven out of the site of the male spectacle of the body that Spartacus was so enslaved in. Ultimately, Varinia moves on to raise their son in the element that his father would only know through death; freedom from spectacle.
All Rights Reserved © Copyright 2011 Michelle Lacey (Michelle Ní Láitheása).
At the risk of many movie lovers exclaiming expletives in my direction, I will be upright and truthful in saying no, I had never seen Being John Malkovich until recently. And I’m glad. I don’t think I could have coped with this when it was released. Seriously, what the what? As soon as the film started I remembered why I had never bothered to watch it before. The absolute insanity, honestly. Whoever sat down with John Malkovich and explained the concept to him, was either paid far too much money or snorted too much coke before shooting this film. Furthermore, the fact that Malkovich would partake in this cinematic oddity boggles my mind.
January 24, 2012
Michelle Lacey
