Hedwig and The Angry Inch: A Genderqueer Masterpiece or a Problematic Nightmare?
((Trigger Warning for discussions of sexual assault))
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
(2001)
is a comedy-drama musical, adapted from the off-Broadway musical of the same
name, directed by, and starting – in the titular role – John Camron Mitchell.
It follows the tale of an emigrant who flees divided Germany by marrying
Sergent Luther Robinson (Maurice Dean Wint), an American soldier. However, to
be legally wed, Hedwig needed to have a physical examination done, which leads
to a botched sex-reassignment surgery that leaves Hedig with a mound of flesh,
that they refer to as the “angry inch”. The marriage between Hedwig and Luther
lasts only a year before he leaves Hedwig for another man. Following this
heartbreak, Hedwig follows their love of rock music and pursues a career as a
rock star. These plans are complicated by Tommy Gnosis (Micheal Pitt), a fellow
musician and former lover, who steals Hedwig's songs, along with their fame and
fortune. The bulk of the story follows Hedwig as they struggle with earning
back their stolen stardom, and while searching for their other half.
Gender
is arguably the biggest aspect of this tale. This film is a commentary on
gender, and gender as a performance. For the entirety of the film, Hedwig is
performing – dolled up in flamboyant clothing, over-the-top makeup, and
glamourous wigs – as a woman. However, these performances aren’t strictly
feminine. “Hedwig's gender-y performance makes her sometimes both effeminate
and femme, for example, in "Wig in the Box"; femme and feminine, for
example, in "Wicked Little Town"; and masculine and butch, for
example, in "The Angry Inch" and "Tear Me Down." Hedwig's
gender is beyond the simple description of just being androgynous, or
masculine, or feminine,” Wendy Hsu writes in “Reading
and Queering Plato in Hedwig and the Angry Inch.” “. . . Hedwig's complicated gender-y gender
performances depart from and break down the conventional one-dimensional gender
dichotomy between masculinity and femininity” (106).
There
is purposefully a lot of ambiguity in Hedwig's gender, and that
makes this movie all the more complicated. But I think that it touts an
important message that feminity and masculinity don’t always dictate one’s
gender. Hedwig was putting on a performance with all the hyperfeminine wear,
but underneath all that a person that existed in the vast space that exists
between man and woman. The last scene involves, Hedig walking down an alley,
completely nude, casting a very androgynous shadow, as a symbolic and visual
representation of Hedwig stripping away that performance, and accepting
themselves underneath it all. There’s an obvious metaphor used in this film
about the Berlin wall and Hedwig's gender. “. . . Hedwig's botched sex-change
operation renders her an individual who, defying ready classification in a
world that favors simplistic binary oppositions, thereafter
exists in the "divide between East and West, slavery and freedom, man and
woman, top and bottom." Kylo-Patrick Hart writes in ‘The Incredibly True
Adventures of Hedwig and the Angry
Inch.’ “. . . Hedwig and the Angry
Inch intentionally embraces the concept of fluidity in various forms, while it
simultaneously opposes ready categorization of sexuality and gender . . .”
(61). Hedwigs' younger self was forced to live on one side, and desired to live
on the other. Older Hedig learns that they exist between those two extremes, in
the fluid state that feels more authentic than either side of the binary ever
could.
I
think there is beauty in having Hedwig’s gender be so ambiguous, however, the
ambiguity has led to confusion and even controversy. Hedwig’s sex reassignment
surgy is likely what has prompted many people to call Mitchell, a “non-trans”
actor, out for playing a transgender role. However, in 2022, in an interview
with Pride, Mitchell came out as non-binary, saying “I’m not
trans, I’m non-binary, but that’s a slippery slope because the character is
forced into an operation and is not really trans.” The slippery slope is an apt
way to describe this particular controversy. While Hedwig isn’t considered a
male-to-female transgender character, they are a genderqueer individual whose
labels are left up in the air by the end of the film, and it’s entirely possible that Hedwig doesn’t want any labels. Trans is a label and an umbrella
term, and non-binary (which is also an umbrella term itself) exists under that. As
I said, it’s complicated.
What’s
also complicated is this film's representation of a queer individual. While I
think this film does a good job of deconstructing gender, I can’t say that it’s an
all-around positive representation. That’s not to say that positive
representation of queer characters equals characters who are totally morally
perfect. Having queer characters only be embodiments of goodness and perfection
erases their complexity and denies them the same multitudes that cis-het
counterparts are given. It’s important
that queer representation involves
well-rounded and multi-faced characters – whether those characters end up being
protagonists or antagonists. While I would agree that Hedwig is an incredibly
complicated person who contains many multitudes, I fear that several aspects of
this story may perpetrate some harmful stereotypes.
For
instance, Hedwig has a botched sex reassign surgery, and it’s implied that
Hedwig regrets it. In this specific, it’s understandable that they would regret
it, considering it was an operation that they were coerced into. However, many
transphobic people, many examples of whom are politicians, try and claim that
trans people regret having gender-affirming surgery in order to
pass restrictive laws that strip away the rights of trans citizens (This, of
course, falls flat as an argument when studies suggest that 1% of those who
undergo gender reassignment surgery regret it). It’s also common for these
kinds of people to try to spin the narrative to claim that members of the
LGBTQ+ community are tricking kids into these sorts gender affirming decisions.
Despite having seemingly come to accept their gender by the end of the movie,
it would be all too easy for a bigoted individual to spin this specific representation to
fuel their hateful fire.
Probably
the most harmful and disturbing aspect
of this film is the relationship between Tommy and Hedwig. Tommy was 17 years
old when he met Hedwig, who, at the time, was in their late twenties to early
thirties. This is an inherently predatory age gap. The dynamic between Tommy
and Hedwig confirms that. Their very first scene together involves Hedwig
touching Tommy’s genitals without explicit consent (which is sexual assault, by
the way). I couldn’t watch that scene, and every other scene involving Tommy
and Hedwig, without feeling sick to my stomach. The power imbalance is
palpable. Hedwig was never given power in their life, and any semblance of
power was stripped away by people in their lives. Hedwig grew up in an area
they were unable to leave, they were molested by their father and preyed upon
by an older man. The relationship between Tommy and Hedwig showcases a cycle of
abuse, wherein Hedwig, desperate for the power they’ve been denied their whole
life, sought out someone to exert that power over (we also saw this power
imbalance, to a lesser degree, in the relationship between Hedwig and their
husband Yitzhak). Despite the mirroring of trauma and what I would argue is a
lack of romanization of Tommy and Hedwig, the film portrays Hedwig in a much
more sympathetic light, whereas Tommy is portrayed much less so. It’s fair to
say that Tommy was a victim, yet it didn’t feel like this movie painted him in
that light.
Even
if this is also a movie about cycles of abuse and trauma, there is no way in
which I, and a lot of people, want to sympathize with a character who is a
predator. All the other messages in the film are present and get clouded by the
disgust I feel at the relationship between Tommy and Hedwig, and that’s such a
disservice to a story that really does have a lot to say. To truly notice and
understand everything that is going on in this, quite frankly, jam-packed
movie, I’d need to watch it several more times. However, this specific
imbalanced dynamic between Tommy and Hedwig makes me far too uncomfortable to
ever want to watch it again. To add insult to injury, it is a very harmful
stereotype that queer people are sexual predators, and despite intentions, it
plays right into it.
I
will admit, however, that queerphobic people will find a way to twist any queer
representation to fit their will. I don’t think queer people should set out to
tell stories in order to change the minds of homophobes, but we
should be conscientious as to how queer representation can alter the way other
people view the community, and more importantly, said representations make
queer people think and feel about themselves. In some ways, this film could
open up positive ways of thinking about one’s sexuality and gender, and in
other ways references negative ways of thinking about ourselves that
still very homophobic society has beaten into our heads.
I
do
think Hedwig and the Angry Inch has a great message about gender, fluidity,
sexuality, self-expression, and self-love,
but unfortunately, my enjoyment of those aspects of the film was muddied by my
discomfort.
Works Cited
Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Directed
by John Camron Mitchell, New Line Cinema, 2001.
Clark, Conner. “John
Cameron Mitchell comes out as non-binary after ‘getting flack’ for playing
trans character.” Gay Times, 9 March 2022, https://www.gaytimes.com/life/john-cameron-mitchell-comes-out-as-non-binary-after-getting-flack-for-playing-trans-character-joe-vs-carole/.
Accessed 10 Sept. 2024.
Hart,
Kylo-Patrick R. “The Incredibly True Adventures of Hedwig and the Angry Inch.”
Presentations of the 29th Annual SW/Texas Regional Meeting of the Popular
Culture and American Culture Association: Gender, edited by Gypsey Elaine
Teague, Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2009, pp. 57-64.
Hsu, Wendy. “Reading
and Queering Plato in Hedwig and the Angry Inch.” Reading and Queering
Plato in Hedwig and the Angry Inch, edited by Thomas Peele, Palgrave
Macmillan, 2007, pp. 103-118.
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