Titane (2021) film review - gender in body horror
★★★★☆
‘Titane’ is a thrillingly subversive body horror that is at once deliciously stylish and surprisingly thoughtful.
Director: Julia Ducournau. Starring: Agathe Rousselle, Vincent Lindon, Garance Marillier. 18 cert, 108 min.
Following the success of her first feature film ‘Raw’ in 2016, French director Julia Ducournau returned in 2021 to provide us with yet another extraordinary addition to the body horror genre. ‘Titane’ is a body horror with depth, a rare horror film which balances the gruesome and grisly with the tender and touching. Ducournau’s second feature film follows Alexia, a woman who has a titanium implant fitted into her head following a car accident as a child. Working as a showgirl at a motor show, the majority of the film focuses on the unusual circumstances Alexia finds herself in following her pursuit of various sexual, often brutal desires. ‘Titane’ surprised me in its complexity and ability to deal with a multitude of themes through its visceral imagery and unconventional narrative. Whilst Ducournau has addressed womanhood and female sexuality in both ‘Raw’ and her 2011 short ‘Junior’, ‘Titane’ is her most polished and thought-provoking work yet, a film which showcases her growth as a director.
‘Titane’ (2021) film poster artwork
Women in body horror
‘Titane’ is a must watch for any fan of the body horror genre. With Cronenberg-like bodily mutilation and mutation and a pregnancy which echoes back to the grotesque baby we all know and love, or at least, love to feel repulsed by, in Lynch’s ‘Eraserhead’, Ducournau’s second film is littered with homages to her male predecessors. This is not to say, however, that ‘Titane’ is without originality. Even with the growth of female directed body horror ushered in by the French extremity movement, which wielded such grotesque creations as ‘Dans ma Peau’, it is difficult to ignore the fact that though the unlucky subjects of such horror are historically women, the directors of such films are predominantly men. Where in ‘Raw’, Ducournau addressed issues of femininity, in ‘Titane’, she artfully addresses issues of gender more broadly, using body horror conventions to turn the genre on its head. Whilst the ‘pregnancy gone terribly wrong’ horror trope may trick viewers into placation, Ducournau’s increasingly creative plays on gender and gendered representation will challenge spectators when they least expect it.
Agathe Rousselle as Alexia in ‘Titane’
‘Titane’ explained
It is necessary now to discuss what is actually going on in ‘Titane’. Unlike ‘Raw’, Ducournau’s second film is not so narratively clean-cut, a fact which has both delighted and repelled critics. Following her car accident, Alexia, played by the excellent Agathe Rousselle in her first feature film performance, has developed a kind of psycho-sexual relationship to cars. This is evident early on in the film, as she is seen making love to a car in a scene which reads almost like a futuristically lit, gender-bending take on Cronenberg’s ‘Crash’. Following this incident, Alexia takes a positive pregnancy test and begins secreting what appears to be motor oil. Having murdered her parents and set alight her family home, Alexia is both wanted by the law and growing increasingly pregnant with what can best be described as a mutant car baby. Already, Ducournau is questioning gendered roles; Alexia is now a Mother to be, but she is also a cold-blooded killer.
Such questioning ramps up when Alexia disguises herself as a Father’s missing son in order to find protection and shelter from the law. Breaking her nose, cutting off her hair, and binding her pregnant belly, Alexia becomes Adrien, fire captain Vincent’s long lost son. Agathe Rousselle’s unconventional, androgynous appearance lends itself incredibly well to this role, as does her subtle, understated acting style. In Vincent, Alexia discovers herself engaging in a surprisingly moving relationship as she assumes the role of his son. I found myself shocked at how touched I was by their relationship, particularly in the scene in which they dance together at a work party. Neon coloured lighting spotlights the unusual Father-son duo as they hold each other, swaying peacefully as ‘Light House’ by Future Islands plays in the background. In moments such as these, ‘Titane’ could read as a touching drama about familial acceptance.
Alexia and Vincent in ‘Titane’
Ultimately, the illusion of domestic bliss that Alexia and Vincent find in one another must come crashing down, and it does so in a spectacular fashion. Upon discovering Alexia going into labour, Vincent decides to support her through her birth in the film’s horrific climax. Whilst the reveal of the baby Alexia has been carrying is somewhat underwhelming in appearance, this is perhaps more testament to Ducournau’s extraordinary building of deep-seated tension than her inability to provide truly skin crawling horror. The binding of Alexia’s increasingly pregnant belly and her evident pain in doing so is undoubtedly more horrifying than the baby itself, but what is truly breathtaking is Vincent’s acceptance of her. I have no doubt in my mind that Freud would have a lot to say about their relationship, but whether it is sexually motivated or not, it brings astounding beauty to an otherwise grotesque, bleak narrative.
Gender performance in ‘Titane’
‘Titane’ presents Alexia as performing masculinity when she conceals herself as Adrien, a performance which is placed at risk by the femininity she is unable to escape. This femininity is symbolised by her pregnancy, which creates the threat of being discovered for who she truly is. In this sense, Ducournau also comments on how female sexuality is perceived to be dangerous, a commentary taken to the extreme as Alexia suffers the gruesome consequences for acting on her own sexual urges. However, Alexia also performs a kind of femininity, as seen early on in the film when she dances for the predominantly male gaze at a car show.
The two performances, the masculine and the feminine, are juxtaposed and contrasted throughout ‘Titane’, a juxtaposition which culminates in the strangely hilarious scene in which Alexia, dressed as Adrien, dances promiscuously for his/her coworkers. This scene challenges the male gaze as Adrien’s coworkers become visibly increasingly uncomfortable, unable to look away as their presumably male coworker dances in a way which, if it were done by a woman, would no doubt arouse them. Arguably, therefore, Ducournau challenges the gaze of the male spectator of the film to an even greater extent. Aware that Adrien is in fact Alexia, the viewer is forced to grapple with an extra layer of gendered performance in a scene which presents an exquisite challenge to the traditional cinematic gaze.
Should you watch this before you die?
Overall, ‘Titane’ is a fresh take on the body horror genre which solidifies Ducournau’s status as a rising star in French horror. People looking to watch a film with copious amounts of blood and gore will no doubt be disappointed, because ‘Titane’, though disgusting when it wants to be, is more often than not thoughtful and driven by narrative and imagery which is rarely horror-related. Instead, the horror of ‘Titane’ lurks in the background, rearing its ugly head from time to time to remind its viewer of its ability to shock and disturb. All of this aside, ‘Titane’ is a deliciously edgy and subversive film which makes me incredibly excited to see what Ducournau will do next.