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<\/figure>\n\n\n\nFirstly, Sciamma replaces voyeurism in typical male-gazed movies by removing male characters. In traditional movies, women\u2019s primary role in film is to be the object of the active male gaze–which is also the projection of viewers. According to Lacan\u2019s mirror theory, \u201cmirror stage\u201d is the moment when a subject first recognizes its own image and forms a sense of self. Laura Mulvey applies this theory to film spectatorship– As the camera functions like a mirror, allowing viewers to project themselves into the position of the male protagonist, who controls the gaze within the narrative, as Mulvey said:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAs the spectator identifies with the main male protagonist, he projects his look on to that of his like, his screen surrogate, so that the power of the male protagonist as he controls events coincides with the active power of the erotic look, both giving a satisfying sense of omnipotence.\u201d (Mulvey 12)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In this process, the spectator\u2019s pleasure in looking is constructed through voyeurism–seeing without being seen–while women are positioned as passive objects of display. Hence, all viewers are effectively turned into male spectators, invited to peer into women\u2019s lives as if observing a pet: a being stripped of privacy, autonomy, and the right to self-definition. Through this act of visual domination, women are reduced from independent subjects to accessories of male desire, thereby reinforcing patriarchal power not only on screen but in the viewer\u2019s imagination. However, In Portrait of a <\/em>L<\/em>ady on <\/em>F<\/em>ire<\/em>, this voyeurism rose from cinematic structure is destroyed by all female character structure. Except for a few male characters in the beginning and end of the film, the entire film is about women–the story between Marianne(the painter), H\u00e9lo\u00efse(female being painted), and Sophia(the maid). There is no male character present in the frame to dominate the narrative or dictate the direction of the story. Under Sciamma\u2019s lens, three women are often framed within the same plane and illuminated by the same light. The camera neither looks down from above (signifying domination) nor looks up from below (suggesting reverence), and it never adopts a voyeuristic perspective. It avoids the voyeuristic angles commonly found in male-female narratives, where women are often filmed from first-person high-angle shots to visually reinforce a hierarchy with men positioned as superior and women as subordinate, or women occupy the visible space, while men remain in the shadows, unseen and unobserved. Instead, it observes them at eye level, creating a sense of equal presence between the viewer and the characters. This cinematographic choice places the audience in the same visual position as the women in the film–watching alongside them rather than watching them. The absence of men removes the camera\u2019s need to \u201cperform\u201d for a male spectator, liberating both characters and audiences. Thus, there is neither a male spectator within the narrative nor a female character being subjected to the male gaze. As Sciamma herself notes in an interview, \u201cThis film is really about sharing the gaze, not taking it.\u201d (Sciamma Little White Lies)<\/p>\n\n\n\n Secondly, this voyeurism is replaced by mutual recognition between Marianne and H\u00e9lo\u00efse. In the context of painting, there is always a hierarchical relationship between the artist and the subject being depicted: the artist, as the \u201cgazer,\u201d holds the power of observation and definition; the subject, on the other hand, assumes the role of being observed, becoming de-subjectified and reduced to an object of depiction and representation. As feminist art historian Griselda Pollock argues,<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cHigh Culture plays a specifiable part in the reproduction of women\u2019s oppression, in the circulation of relative values and meanings for the ideological constructs of masculinity and femininity. Representing creativity as masculine and Woman as the beautiful image for the desiring masculine gaze, High Culture systematically denies knowledge of women as producers of culture and meanings.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The structures of looking in art are always gendered; the painter\u2019s gaze establishes the hierarchy of subject and object. When someone “looks,” they are not just an observer; they are also establishing control and definition over the other person. By gazing at the model, the artist is not only observing her; they are also determining who she is. However, in the film, Sciamma subverts this visual power structure. When Marianne is painting H\u00e9lo\u00efse, the dialogue between the two-<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI’ve been watching you.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n “You’re watching me, but I’m also watching you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n -reveals a mutual and equal gaze. They communicate their feelings and admiration through mutually gazing at one another. At this moment, H\u00e9lo\u00efse is no longer just a passive model; she is an active participant as the subject of the gaze. Marianne’s gaze is no longer an extension of power but rather a medium for the exchange of emotions and understanding. As Sciamma puts it, \u201cThe narrative of the film is based on equality. I wanted to give both characters the same journey, the same screen time, the same intensity. The film is about that mutual gazing.\u201d (Sciamma Vox) This \u201cmutual subject-centered\u201d visual structure transforms \u201ccreation\u201d from a process of dominance and reproduction into a collaborative act of mutual understanding and appreciation. In this relationship, the power dynamics of \u201cwatching-being watched\u201dare completely dissolved, replaced by a female visual ethics based on equality, empathy, and mutual recognition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What\u2019s more, through the strategy of myth rewriting, the film achieves a subversive reconstruction of gender codes. In the film, H\u00e9lo\u00efse reads the story of \u201cOrpheus and Eurydice\u201d after dinner. In the original myth, Orpheus was determined to bring back his beloved wife Eurydice from the underworld, but on the condition that he must not look back at her before leaving the underworld. When the two were about to reach the exit and see the sunlight again, Orpheus still couldn’t suppress the urge in his heart to confirm if she was still behind him, so he turned to look at her. At that very moment, Eurydice was pulled back to the Underworld forever, and Orpheus could never see her again. This myth is usually regarded as a symbol of \u201cthe desire to gaze and the inevitability loss of indiscipline\u201d. As the subject of \u201cgaze\u201d, even though Orpheus knew that the price of looking back was an eternal loss, he still couldn’t suppress the impulse to \u201cwatch\u201d. Eurydice, as the object being \u201cgazed\u201d, has no agency; she exists only within the structure of his desire and cannot direct it. However, in the film, Sciamma reverses this dominant relationship dominated by the male gaze. After reading the story, H\u00e9lo\u00efse said to Marianne, \u201cPerhaps he turned back because she called him.\u201d Which means, Orpheus turned to look not because he could not resist Eurydice as a tempting \u201cobject,\u201d but because he wanted to respond to the call of an individual who stands equal to him. This sentence completely subverts the logic of the myth : Eurydice is no longer the object of gaze, but has become a subject with action and will–the one who chooses to be seen. She took the initiative to \u201cask to be seen\u201d in order to achieve her last connection with her lover. Thus, the tragedy of \u201cthe male gaze leading to loss\u201d in the original myth was transformed into \u201cmutual recognition between women\u201d — a gentle and equal viewing relationship. This rewriting also endows the separation of Orpheus and Eurydice with a unique female emotional dimension: Choosing to be seen becomes an act of love, and looking back becomes a way of preserving the other in memory forever. Unfortunately, this narrative perspective is often hidden in the grand narratives of male gaze films.<\/p>\n\n\n\n (source:https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/p\/CIgGvTTj8Z1\/?img_index=3<\/a>)<\/p>\n\n\n\n With the rise of feminism, audiences have begun to question the prevalence of male gaze in the visual culture. More and more directors have also sought to tell stories about female independence, attempting to transform the male-gaze dominated structure. Portrait of a <\/em>L<\/em>ady on <\/em>F<\/em>ire<\/em> is one of the representative works within this feminist cinematic wave. However, as Kaplan argues,<\/p>\n\n\n\n It is this persistent presentation of the masculine position that feminist film critics have demonstrated in their analysis of Hollywood films. Dominant, Hollywood cinema, they show, is constructed according to the unconscious of patriarchy; film narratives are organized by means of a male-based language and discourse which parallels the language of the unconscious. (Kaplan 30)<\/p>\n\n\n\n critics point out that some self-proclaimed \u201cfeminist\u201d films, despite their narrative themes of women’s self-growth or empowerment, remain limited to traditional male gaze structures. For example, in some works, the heroine must experience the frustration of heterosexual feelings, abandoned by men, or hurt before beginning to \u201cself-discovery\u201d; Or, despite being cast as roles with powerful forces, they still rely on men for emotional support and recognition. This apparent female independence continues the narrative logic of a patriarchal structure and belongs to a \u201cfeminism packaged by men’s gaze.\u201d However, in Portrait of a <\/em>L<\/em>ady on <\/em>F<\/em>ire<\/em>, Sciamma manages to break away from the traditional shackles of male gaze structure by establishing a female agency. The three female characters in the film – Marianne, H\u00e9lo\u00efse and Sophie – each fight against society and male power in different ways. At the beginning of the film, Marianne learns from the maid Sophie that H\u00e9lo\u00efse’s sister has chosen to jump off a cliff to fight against a forced marriage. In the same way, Heloise resisted the fate of male gaze and possession in marriage by refusing to let many artists paint her portrait. Meanwhile, Sophie, a maid, chooses to have an abortion herself, accompanied and assisted by Marianne and H\u00e9lo\u00efse, after discovering her unplanned pregnancy – an act that symbolizes their collective courage to strive for autonomy over their body and their destiny. The film weaves together the experiences of the three women, showing empathy and cooperation among women, making \u201caction\u201d a collective force of resistance. What’s more, Sciamma also disintegrates the male viewing structure by redefining the power relationship of \u201cgaze\u201d. In the typical films of male gaze, women are often the object of the male gaze, passively reduced to \u201cthe object being watched.\u201d In this film, however, H\u00e9lo\u00efse actively chooses to have Marianne paint herself – when she walks into Marianne’s room and sees a frame and chair, she is not forced to be a model, but sits confidently and lets herself be seen; More importantly, she responds to Marianne’s gaze by looking back, thus reconstructing the equal relationship between \u201cwatching and being watched.\u201d At the end of the film, when they are about to leave, H\u00e9lo\u00efse calls Marianne to \u201clook back at me,\u201d urging Marianne to give her one final look, letting their time together transform into a memory that will remain forever in her heart. This gesture is not only an emotional call but a recapture of the right to gaze – she chooses to be seen, to turn that moment into an eternity of memory.Through this visual strategy of mutual subjectivity, Sciamma transforms women from passive \u201cwatched\u201d to active \u201cviewers,\u201d achieving a complete transcendence of the narrative logic of male gaze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/sites.smith.edu\/wrt118\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1138\/2025\/11\/image-2-1024x557.png\")
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