On the ‘Cuties’ Controversy Girlhood Looking & Being Looked At

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Earlier that year, the streaming platform had acquired the worldwide rights to the French film Cuties after its lauded premiere at the Sundance Film Festival. Instead, it displayed the actors, some of whom were only 12 years old, in booty shorts and crop tops, striking provocative dance poses. The fallout was immediate. QAnon conspiracy theorists claimed the company was distributing child porn and started tweeting about it with the hashtag SaveTheChildren. A Change. After all, the frenzied response was to the marketing, not to the movie itself. Behind the scenes, however, Netflix scrambled to minimize public backlash by suppressing the film in search results prior to its release.

This is What I Saw. Many ancestor have strong opinions about Cuties. A minute ago look on social media. But others are quick to say that we cannot pass judgment on the big screen unless we have actually seen it.

Her eyelids bejeweled, her adolescent body encased in glittering spandex crop-top and shorts, she begins to cry, tears like a ghost spilling from her eyes. The viewers enter into a troubled headspace, a moment of almost adult insight arrange the part of the spirited central character, Amy. If she spoke, she might well say, What am I doing here? Watching Cuties, I examined how it reflected — and differed from — my personal experiences. I was most overwhelmed by the awareness of reciprocation and understanding the big screen brought me, even though I grew up in radically different circumstances. A different was that the convoluted interactions along with these girls were far from an anomaly, as critics might have chosen to think. Rather, their interactions struck me as the uneasy byproducts of a sexualized, social media-obsessed environment, anywhere friendships are transitory and pragmatic considerably than absolute and binding.

I sat through one viewing, and I think that was all I basic to see. I've honestly seen films on this sort of subject body a girl on the cusp of womanhood that have stylistically handled it better, such as the film The Fits. The girls in this big screen, not even in high school but, curse like sailors and dress improperly, an awkward and painful spectacle designed for the viewer as we sit around watching the main character's slow breakdown into competitive perversion. Maybe fifteen years ago the film would have absent a bigger impact on me. At once, having been born in myself after that having grown up with this alike kind of pressure and exposure en route for sexuality as a female, I'm a minute ago desensitized to this type of affair.

I have few memories of the action. I remember my roommate liked en route for pull the fire alarm and so as to, at some point, my mother came to visit. I remember wrapping my hands around the fence between us, crying for her not to attempt, until a nurse guided me ago inside. I remember the feelings of helplessness and rage were more than I knew what to do along with. Afterward, I did my best en route for wade through adolescence and young later life, working diligently to assure everyone so as to I was fine. I started using the word pedophilia in casual banter, as if to mark the basis of my emotional breakdown. Suddenly, it was all I could think a propos.

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