Fighting With My Family - Questioning The Mechanisms of Photogénie
Thoughts On: Fighting With My Family (2019)
A girl from Norwich tries to become a WWE champion.
Fighting With My Family is not a good film - it is mediocre at best. Whilst I wouldn't suggest that it is strictly a 'based on a true story' narrative film's responsibility to report the facts of its 'real story,' there are times when egregious contrivance and manipulation damage such a film. This is the case with Fighting With My Family. Whilst I used to love the WWF when I was a kid, I know nothing at all about the whole thing now. But, even to an entirely unknowing spectator of the film like myself, this film clearly cuts huge sections out of its main character's ascent to a 'title'. To anyone who has seen the film--or even not-- you may find reading Paige's Wikipedia entry more dramatic and captivating than the feature-length film. There would, however, be little point in this film adapting a Wiki page, representing a story and wrestling career that have been televised - and let's not forget are scripted. Fighting With My Family then does somewhat well in understanding that it is not the drama in the ring that needs to be put into a narrative, rather, its relationship with an untelevised 'behind the scenes' that Wikipedia does not capture. Nonetheless, whilst this is understood, the attempt at managing both the scripted narrative of Paige's wrestling career and her life beyond garners poor results. This is largely because there are clear gaps in Paige's presented wrestling career, which in turn fails to translate the real work and turmoil that would have accompanied her rise to the top of her sport. The biggest indication of this film's failure is then the fact that I was left wondering: How do you become a pro-wrestling champion? What do you have to do as an athlete and entertainer to be given the hero's narrative? Fighting With My Family only suggests some fluff in this regard: you have to find yourself. Whilst this archetypal location and affirmation of self may be justified for sitting at the basis of this narrative, it is given no structural and logical support. That is to say that Fighting With My Family should have been structured to express this tale of individuation with greater emphasis on what really went on behind the scenes as to nuance and complexify what can be read as a cliched, oversimplified story.
Let's not fall too far into this discussion, however, as it is making me rather nauseous for how silly it is. Fighting With My Family is a WWE co-produced movie, so you could expect it to shy away from the true business side of things. This is a film, you could argue, that merely emphasises the political statement made by the WWE as they facilitated the rise of Paige and women's pro-wrestling. Seen in this regard, WWE are just patting themselves on the back here. And as such, Fighting With My Family is relegated from mediocrity down to worthlessness in my eyes. But, let's not let conspiratorial assumption take the main stage here. If anyone has any interest in what occurs behind the scenes in pro wrestling, I'd recommend Beyond the Mat - a documentary I saw when I was too young and made wrestling too real and a little sad.
I didn't expect much at all from Fighting With My Family. I approached this film because of its lead, Florence Pugh. Having recently seen Little Women and re-watched Midsommar for about the fifth time, I felt that Florence Pugh was the stand-out actress of last year. Midsommar is the first movie of Pugh's that I had seen, and in it she brilliantly captures and expresses the twisted, bipolar core of the film. Midsommar is at once a tale of individuation and a fatalistic revenge narrative; the script surreally manages these two extremes as to evoke a profoundly complex sense of unconscious perturbance and break-through. For this, the film is sensational. But, if all of its brilliance could be boiled down to one statement, it would have to be presented with an image of Florence Pugh's face at the end of the film: her reaction to her terrifying journey into the depths of her neurosis. Such a shot and its power can only be defined and understood with the concept of photogénie. This is an old idea used by French filmmakers of the silent era. It describes evocative, beautiful images, but defines them not by spectacle, instead their morally enhancing ability. The idea of photogénie then suggests that sublime images awaken in us a sensitivity to moral meaning. In the case of the defining shot of Midsommar, we see not just a beautifully composed image, but an image that pulls us into the soul of a character, a subject, to better sense an underlying exploration of death, desperation and tragedy that runs through the film.
Midsommar's photogénie - specifically, the film's projection of Pugh's visage and performance - emphasised the actress' talent and striking aura. Little Women did well to translate this, centralising, aesthetically, the warmth, earnest spontaneity and dragging pain of Pugh's character. Photogénie then plays a strong role in the film. But, whilst we can define photogénie's effects, I'm interested in its more ambiguous mechanisms. This is what brought me to Fighting With My Family. Dramatically, aesthetically, generically, formally and otherwise, Midsommar, Little Women and Fighting With My Family are three very different films. But, what binds the first two is a successful deployment of photogénie. I wondered if Fighting With My Family would also share this. I in turn was questioning whether photogénie is a cinematographic or preformative property: an effect conjured by a cinematographer or actress. I questioned this on the basis that we often consider some things or some people just having something about them, or a subject or object possessing the inability to look bad. Is this the case with photogénie; can, in this case, a performer be unable to facilitate moral enhancement, or is this dependent on the cinematographer?
This is a tricky and fascinating subject as it bears much relation to theories of stardom. Some would suggest that stars - to a spectator who highly regards them at least - cannot make bad movies; or at least, if they are in a bad movie, they are a redeemable part of it and in no way responsible for lacking quality. In such a case, stardom - whatever that may be - transcends medial technique. If photogénie is tied to stardom, to a distinct aura an actress or actor carries between roles, then we could expect it, too, to transcend the abilities of writers, directors, cinematographers, etc. Fighting With My Family provides an opportunity to question this. Does photogénie follow Florence Pugh into a mediocre movie?
In all honesty, I can't tell. Having raised the subject and outlined it for so long, I should reach some conclusion, but I cannot be definitive. It seems clear that Pugh's aura translates between films with her embodiment of something archetypal that I cannot substantially decipher being expressed in each. In such, though Fighting With My Family is a mediocre film, I found myself drawn to its main character and awkwardly laughing away the affects of its finale as if they didn't exist. I am not sure if this is because of the script, however. As discussed, its management and contrivance of character is highly questionable and the source of the film's failings. This suggests to me that successes in the character department may be attributable to Pugh and, or, aesthetic technique. But, Fighting With My Family certainly holds little aesthetic achievement, and so I am happy to assign the success of characterisation primarily to Pugh and her aura. But, with this, does there come photogénie? My answer: maybe. There are one or two images that have something of a punctum - not a strong one, but an affective punch nonetheless. But, these images do not utilise Pugh's face anything like Little Women or Midsommar do; they are certainly nowhere near as crisp, richly textured or vibrant as those in the mentioned films. Such suggests that a trace of photogénie does travel with Pugh, but there are too many contingencies and questions here. Am I confusing photogénie and star aura? Am I undermining an archetypal narrative and competent cinematography? Am I unduly removing myself from the formulating process of photogénie? I cannot answer these questions presently. However, there is a lot to this line of discourse. So, I'll leave things in your hands. What do you think of photogénie as it relates to performers and aesthetics?
A girl from Norwich tries to become a WWE champion.
Fighting With My Family is not a good film - it is mediocre at best. Whilst I wouldn't suggest that it is strictly a 'based on a true story' narrative film's responsibility to report the facts of its 'real story,' there are times when egregious contrivance and manipulation damage such a film. This is the case with Fighting With My Family. Whilst I used to love the WWF when I was a kid, I know nothing at all about the whole thing now. But, even to an entirely unknowing spectator of the film like myself, this film clearly cuts huge sections out of its main character's ascent to a 'title'. To anyone who has seen the film--or even not-- you may find reading Paige's Wikipedia entry more dramatic and captivating than the feature-length film. There would, however, be little point in this film adapting a Wiki page, representing a story and wrestling career that have been televised - and let's not forget are scripted. Fighting With My Family then does somewhat well in understanding that it is not the drama in the ring that needs to be put into a narrative, rather, its relationship with an untelevised 'behind the scenes' that Wikipedia does not capture. Nonetheless, whilst this is understood, the attempt at managing both the scripted narrative of Paige's wrestling career and her life beyond garners poor results. This is largely because there are clear gaps in Paige's presented wrestling career, which in turn fails to translate the real work and turmoil that would have accompanied her rise to the top of her sport. The biggest indication of this film's failure is then the fact that I was left wondering: How do you become a pro-wrestling champion? What do you have to do as an athlete and entertainer to be given the hero's narrative? Fighting With My Family only suggests some fluff in this regard: you have to find yourself. Whilst this archetypal location and affirmation of self may be justified for sitting at the basis of this narrative, it is given no structural and logical support. That is to say that Fighting With My Family should have been structured to express this tale of individuation with greater emphasis on what really went on behind the scenes as to nuance and complexify what can be read as a cliched, oversimplified story.
Let's not fall too far into this discussion, however, as it is making me rather nauseous for how silly it is. Fighting With My Family is a WWE co-produced movie, so you could expect it to shy away from the true business side of things. This is a film, you could argue, that merely emphasises the political statement made by the WWE as they facilitated the rise of Paige and women's pro-wrestling. Seen in this regard, WWE are just patting themselves on the back here. And as such, Fighting With My Family is relegated from mediocrity down to worthlessness in my eyes. But, let's not let conspiratorial assumption take the main stage here. If anyone has any interest in what occurs behind the scenes in pro wrestling, I'd recommend Beyond the Mat - a documentary I saw when I was too young and made wrestling too real and a little sad.
I didn't expect much at all from Fighting With My Family. I approached this film because of its lead, Florence Pugh. Having recently seen Little Women and re-watched Midsommar for about the fifth time, I felt that Florence Pugh was the stand-out actress of last year. Midsommar is the first movie of Pugh's that I had seen, and in it she brilliantly captures and expresses the twisted, bipolar core of the film. Midsommar is at once a tale of individuation and a fatalistic revenge narrative; the script surreally manages these two extremes as to evoke a profoundly complex sense of unconscious perturbance and break-through. For this, the film is sensational. But, if all of its brilliance could be boiled down to one statement, it would have to be presented with an image of Florence Pugh's face at the end of the film: her reaction to her terrifying journey into the depths of her neurosis. Such a shot and its power can only be defined and understood with the concept of photogénie. This is an old idea used by French filmmakers of the silent era. It describes evocative, beautiful images, but defines them not by spectacle, instead their morally enhancing ability. The idea of photogénie then suggests that sublime images awaken in us a sensitivity to moral meaning. In the case of the defining shot of Midsommar, we see not just a beautifully composed image, but an image that pulls us into the soul of a character, a subject, to better sense an underlying exploration of death, desperation and tragedy that runs through the film.
Midsommar's photogénie - specifically, the film's projection of Pugh's visage and performance - emphasised the actress' talent and striking aura. Little Women did well to translate this, centralising, aesthetically, the warmth, earnest spontaneity and dragging pain of Pugh's character. Photogénie then plays a strong role in the film. But, whilst we can define photogénie's effects, I'm interested in its more ambiguous mechanisms. This is what brought me to Fighting With My Family. Dramatically, aesthetically, generically, formally and otherwise, Midsommar, Little Women and Fighting With My Family are three very different films. But, what binds the first two is a successful deployment of photogénie. I wondered if Fighting With My Family would also share this. I in turn was questioning whether photogénie is a cinematographic or preformative property: an effect conjured by a cinematographer or actress. I questioned this on the basis that we often consider some things or some people just having something about them, or a subject or object possessing the inability to look bad. Is this the case with photogénie; can, in this case, a performer be unable to facilitate moral enhancement, or is this dependent on the cinematographer?
This is a tricky and fascinating subject as it bears much relation to theories of stardom. Some would suggest that stars - to a spectator who highly regards them at least - cannot make bad movies; or at least, if they are in a bad movie, they are a redeemable part of it and in no way responsible for lacking quality. In such a case, stardom - whatever that may be - transcends medial technique. If photogénie is tied to stardom, to a distinct aura an actress or actor carries between roles, then we could expect it, too, to transcend the abilities of writers, directors, cinematographers, etc. Fighting With My Family provides an opportunity to question this. Does photogénie follow Florence Pugh into a mediocre movie?
In all honesty, I can't tell. Having raised the subject and outlined it for so long, I should reach some conclusion, but I cannot be definitive. It seems clear that Pugh's aura translates between films with her embodiment of something archetypal that I cannot substantially decipher being expressed in each. In such, though Fighting With My Family is a mediocre film, I found myself drawn to its main character and awkwardly laughing away the affects of its finale as if they didn't exist. I am not sure if this is because of the script, however. As discussed, its management and contrivance of character is highly questionable and the source of the film's failings. This suggests to me that successes in the character department may be attributable to Pugh and, or, aesthetic technique. But, Fighting With My Family certainly holds little aesthetic achievement, and so I am happy to assign the success of characterisation primarily to Pugh and her aura. But, with this, does there come photogénie? My answer: maybe. There are one or two images that have something of a punctum - not a strong one, but an affective punch nonetheless. But, these images do not utilise Pugh's face anything like Little Women or Midsommar do; they are certainly nowhere near as crisp, richly textured or vibrant as those in the mentioned films. Such suggests that a trace of photogénie does travel with Pugh, but there are too many contingencies and questions here. Am I confusing photogénie and star aura? Am I undermining an archetypal narrative and competent cinematography? Am I unduly removing myself from the formulating process of photogénie? I cannot answer these questions presently. However, there is a lot to this line of discourse. So, I'll leave things in your hands. What do you think of photogénie as it relates to performers and aesthetics?
