Gender and the Power of Words (week 4)
Every child has endured the often complicated navigation of gender as a strict binary of behaviors and characteristics that we are taught from an incredibly young age not to deviate from. Gender is difficult to fully understand and assess. Tomboy, released in 2011 and directed by 
French director Céline Sciamma, explores the issue of gender and how it arises in society by following a child, Laure/Mikäel, as they move into a new neighborhood during the summer. For the first twenty minutes of the film, we follow the main character, who, for an audience going into this film knowing nothing about it, we would assume is a boy. He is pictured with short hair, “boyish” clothes, enjoying driving cars with his dad, and recently had his room painted blue as requested. These are all markers traditionally associated with boyhood, and so the audience perceives him as “boy.” The character introduces himself to a new neighbor as “Mikäel,” and thus introduces himself to the audience with the same name. It is not until after character introductions cease that we see Mikäel is named Laure, and is “actually” a girl.
This reveal, I believe, serves to help cement us in Mikäel’s perspective, which the rest of the film will then reinforce. Examples include the long shots of him closely following a game of soccer while he carefully observes his 
friends, and, after a painful confrontation with his mother and friends, his lone contemplation in the woods as we see him walking away from a swaying dress, left by him on a tree. The audience, through this perspective, better empathizes with the character.
Judith Butler’s Critically Queer helps us understand the power of behaviors and words in identity formation that are key to this film. Butler discusses the “invocation of convention” and argues that a “citation of the gender norm is necessary in order to qualify as a ‘one,’ to become viable as a ‘one,’ where subject-formation is dependent on the prior operation of legitimating gender norms”; these concepts, that words such as “girl” and “boy” only hold power due to their repetitive citation, help us understand Mikäel’s actions as he strives to forge his identity through his behavior.
I found the simplicity of this film, a trademark of Sciamma’s filmmaking, to be striking. Many of the shots of the children playing games, for example, feel unrehearsed and go on for longer than expected, and thus immerse the audience further into the film itself as well as Mikäel’s perspective. I also found the ending to be somewhat bittersweet in its open end, as Mikäel reintroduces himself as Laure to Lisa, the girl he became close with and kissed while still Mikäel. It’s hopeful in that Mikäel/Laure can begin again, but it feels somewhat unhappy, despite his small final smile after answering Lisa. It seems he conformed after his mother’s harsh reaction to his secret. However, its open end allows for different interpretations and applications, as well as being an unfortunate reality for most kids like Mikäel.
This was my second viewing of this film, and its power is retained through its second watch. I feel stories about LGBTQ children are difficult to come by, and I’m glad this is regarded as a family movie in France; I hope more movies like this are made in the future.