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A review by samrossvolante
New Queer Cinema: The Director's Cut by B. Ruby Rich
2.0
I learned a considerable amount about gay and lesbian filmmaking in this book (names, dates, the way politics interacted with twentieth-century gay and lesbian filmmaking, etc.). However, I absolutely hated reading it.
I found B. Ruby Rich's voice as a writer to be insufferable. I disagreed with her on a lot of things, in terms of what makes a "good queer film", but that was almost to be expected. One prominent issue with her was her essentialist, reductive view of the word "queer". She constantly referred to "queer" films and "queer" people. Queer, as we know it to be since it has originally been used, has meant anyone outside cisgender and/or heterosexual parameters (and even beyond, into "unconventional" cishets, such as cishet polyamorous people... "queer" was historically seen as a statement as well as an identity). To Rich, "queer" clearly meant, at the time of writing, cisgender gays and lesbians.
Rich's idea that "trans is the new queer" infuriated me. Trans people were always at the forefront of the queer movement, and indeed the gay liberation movement before it... while there may not have been many prominent trans voices in film during the 90s and 00s, they were still very much part of the queer activist world and social sphere, which is something Rich discusses often. Indeed, they were often rejected from this sphere by cis gays and lesbians, which is, in effect, what Rich does in her writing here. This even extends to the book's conclusion, in which Rich takes it upon herself, at the will and desire of [checks notes] no trans people at all, to define certain films in the 00s and early 10s as 'New Trans Cinema'. Her judgement also seems to conclude that transgender studies and trans art are squarely outside the realm of "queer". They are allegedly something "postqueer". This not only reveals that she thinks "queer" as a movement is effectively over, but also that she does not see and embrace the inextricable connection queerness has to transness.
Onto Rich's choice to completely ignore any concept of bisexuality. Rich's analyses of films in which characters could ambiguously be interpreted as either gay or bisexual (e.g. Brokeback) leave no room for questioning. They place these characters squarely in the monosexual "gay" box every time. The only time she mentions a film addressing "the issue of bisexuality" (bisexuality, as we all know, is not an "issue"), is in an article that addresses a film which deals with a lesbian's anxiety about her girlfriend leaving her for a man. This only continues to propagate the idea that bisexuals are inherently unfaithful and disingenuous in their claims to be same-gender attracted. Further, Rich does not acknowledge any bisexual filmmakers or indeed bisexual actors in her writing. More than half the time, she doesn't even mention bisexuals in the definition of "queer".
The book also smacks of complacency in areas such as addressing potential misogyny in gay male filmmaking. For example, her justification for condemning accusations of misogynistic portrayals of women in Jarman's 'Edward II' is essentially as follows: Jarman was her friend, so there's no way he could have been misogynistic. Also, she equates the fact that Tilda Swinton contributed considerably to the development of her character in the film with the idea that the portrayal of said character could not possibly be misogynistic... as if women cannot participate in (internalised) misogyny themselves. Now, whether this film's portrayal of women is misogynistic or not is another matter - Rich's response to such an inquiry shuts down the very idea of it, as if it's not even worth discussing when a friend whose work she enjoys is involved.
The book fails to adequately address the relationship that race bears to the NQC movement; while intermissions about films made by people of colour, like 'The Watermelon Woman', feature in the book, the book fails to structurally and consistently consider the fact that the NCQ, like many film movements in the US, is predominantly white, and a movement that marginalises and largely ignores PoC voices.
I also found Rich's register, along with her ostensible self-righteousness and pompousness, difficult to reconcile as I read the book. I got through it in an endeavour to find inspiration for a uni essay, and came up disappointingly short.
I found B. Ruby Rich's voice as a writer to be insufferable. I disagreed with her on a lot of things, in terms of what makes a "good queer film", but that was almost to be expected. One prominent issue with her was her essentialist, reductive view of the word "queer". She constantly referred to "queer" films and "queer" people. Queer, as we know it to be since it has originally been used, has meant anyone outside cisgender and/or heterosexual parameters (and even beyond, into "unconventional" cishets, such as cishet polyamorous people... "queer" was historically seen as a statement as well as an identity). To Rich, "queer" clearly meant, at the time of writing, cisgender gays and lesbians.
Rich's idea that "trans is the new queer" infuriated me. Trans people were always at the forefront of the queer movement, and indeed the gay liberation movement before it... while there may not have been many prominent trans voices in film during the 90s and 00s, they were still very much part of the queer activist world and social sphere, which is something Rich discusses often. Indeed, they were often rejected from this sphere by cis gays and lesbians, which is, in effect, what Rich does in her writing here. This even extends to the book's conclusion, in which Rich takes it upon herself, at the will and desire of [checks notes] no trans people at all, to define certain films in the 00s and early 10s as 'New Trans Cinema'. Her judgement also seems to conclude that transgender studies and trans art are squarely outside the realm of "queer". They are allegedly something "postqueer". This not only reveals that she thinks "queer" as a movement is effectively over, but also that she does not see and embrace the inextricable connection queerness has to transness.
Onto Rich's choice to completely ignore any concept of bisexuality. Rich's analyses of films in which characters could ambiguously be interpreted as either gay or bisexual (e.g. Brokeback) leave no room for questioning. They place these characters squarely in the monosexual "gay" box every time. The only time she mentions a film addressing "the issue of bisexuality" (bisexuality, as we all know, is not an "issue"), is in an article that addresses a film which deals with a lesbian's anxiety about her girlfriend leaving her for a man. This only continues to propagate the idea that bisexuals are inherently unfaithful and disingenuous in their claims to be same-gender attracted. Further, Rich does not acknowledge any bisexual filmmakers or indeed bisexual actors in her writing. More than half the time, she doesn't even mention bisexuals in the definition of "queer".
The book also smacks of complacency in areas such as addressing potential misogyny in gay male filmmaking. For example, her justification for condemning accusations of misogynistic portrayals of women in Jarman's 'Edward II' is essentially as follows: Jarman was her friend, so there's no way he could have been misogynistic. Also, she equates the fact that Tilda Swinton contributed considerably to the development of her character in the film with the idea that the portrayal of said character could not possibly be misogynistic... as if women cannot participate in (internalised) misogyny themselves. Now, whether this film's portrayal of women is misogynistic or not is another matter - Rich's response to such an inquiry shuts down the very idea of it, as if it's not even worth discussing when a friend whose work she enjoys is involved.
The book fails to adequately address the relationship that race bears to the NQC movement; while intermissions about films made by people of colour, like 'The Watermelon Woman', feature in the book, the book fails to structurally and consistently consider the fact that the NCQ, like many film movements in the US, is predominantly white, and a movement that marginalises and largely ignores PoC voices.
I also found Rich's register, along with her ostensible self-righteousness and pompousness, difficult to reconcile as I read the book. I got through it in an endeavour to find inspiration for a uni essay, and came up disappointingly short.