Sunday, 26 September 2010

DOG SOLDIERS, d. and written by Neil Marshall, 2002 UK.


For some reason I watched this last night, and remembered that one of the reasons I like it so much (given that I'm not all that big on werewolf flicks - except maybe An American Werewolf in London) is that its female lead seems to be devoid of a problematically gendered character - except, sadly, for one moment where she inexplicably (in terms of plot and characterization, nevermind the politics of the film!) spouts some weird crap about the main protagonist having a problem with women, and it being her "time of the month". All very bizarre (in a Ginger Snaps kind of a way), and wholly incongruous with the rest of the film. Hey ho.

Forgetting for a moment that bizarre moment in which the film undoes much of the feminist good it does for the duration(!), Dog Soldiers goes for decidedly (and apparently consciously) realistic gender representations which choose not to sexualise its attractive female lead, and to have a little fun with the boyishness of its mostly male cast. The cast is mostly male, by the way, because they're mostly soldiers - and soldiers are, in the UK, mostly men.

Interestingly, the director chose to cut sequences in which the soldiers comment on (or "discuss," if it could be called that) the physical attractiveness of Megan (Emma Cleasby), having already initially decided to dress her in a manner that seemed sensible given the wilds-of-Scotland setting and her status as a zoologist and Land Rover driving rescuer. This may not seem like such a big deal, but of course it is: it really isn't all that often that we get to see a female character in a horror film who's not inexplicably dressed in scanty garb, and who's not positioned as an object of the male gaze. But Megan is not. And that makes the film all the more convincing - as frankly, surely even squaddies obssessed with footie and the laydees wouldn't seriously be wanting to make moves on their rescuer when they're surrounded by a bloodthirsty pack of werewolves with no means of communicating their plight to the outside world, and stocks of ammunition running low? Of course they wouldn't! 

Although one of the two campers in the opening sequence is grabbed by a werewolf and her blood is splattered, there's no lengthy sequence where we watch her squirm or run in horror - and indeed, her boyfriend looks as scared as she does (understandably enough!). And given the almost all-male cast, it's then only men we see running scared - and we do see a few, chased down or sprung upon in the forest, and screaming for help. That said, we don't get the kind of drawn-out chase sequences so typical of female victims in horror flicks. Of course it could be said that this is because Dog Soldiers is not your typical horror, and also because it's set primarily in one house, it'd be odd (not to mention hard!) to have chase sequences. Plus what we do get is scenes in which the men are hiding in cupboards and frantic to escape - using spray cans and lighters in much the same way as the infamous "Final Girls" of slasher films have used coat hangers and the like before them. So there's plenty room for debate there: does the gender of the protagonists have much bearing on how their deaths and their fear is represented, or not?

All of the characters are shown as capable and brave (if to differing extents), and gender lines aren't really drawn. In the end, though, it is hard to avoid the fact that Megan betrays the men - and at the same moment refers to her female-ness in terms of being a "bitch" and having a menstrual cycle. I can't help thinking that the film lets itself down here, as the implication - deliberate or not - seems clearly to be that the men have ultimately suffered by failing to take note of Megan's "difference" and to be suspicious of her and her motives, accordingly.

This does undermine what is for me, otherwise, a really great British film. And it's not even just that the only woman in the end turns out to be the bad guy; it's more the fact that this is correlated with her female-ness in and through the dialogue. Such a shame. 





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