Tags
Derek Jacobi, Ironclad, James Purefoy, Kate Mara, Medieval England, Medieval Europe, Woman as Prize
In my last post, I discussed Ironclad (2011, dir. Jonathan English), a film about the siege of Rochester in 1215. There’s a lot to like about the film, despite some of its historical errors, but there’s one part about it that I find troubling, namely its treatment of its main female character.
In the past few weeks, as people have reacted to the Isla Vista killings, many people have argued that the killer’s attitudes were in part the product of a culture that treats women as objects designed to serve men’s needs. It’s been pointed out that many films, especially action films, tend to re-enforce this idea. So, to help further this important discussion that’s taking place, I want to look at the way Ironclad treats its main female character, because I think it’s a good example of this extremely common, but also extremely problematic, tendency in films.
Ironclad is very much a man’s movie. It’s set solidly within the action movie genre, since the entire plot is about the siege of Rochester Castle. The extreme male-on-male violence falls into this genre as well. The cast also reflects this; it has 17 named characters, of whom only 3 are women (and one of them has such a small part I’m not even sure who she is; I think she might be an elderly lady-in-waiting). The film draws heavily off of Kurasawa’s Seven Samurai, and so its action is almost entirely concerned with the actions and choices of men, particularly its protagonist Thomas Marshall (James Purefoy). It fails the Bechdel test miserably (unless you count one line in which a lady in waiting tells Isabel to get back from a fight that’s broken out). The film is so deeply male-centric, the female characters could have been omitted entirely without affecting the plot in any way. So why are they even there?
Of the two female characters worth discussing, one of them, Agnes (Bree Condon) is a serving women at castallan Reginald de Cornhill’s household. She primarily functions as a sexual partner for one of the male soldiers who comes to the castle with Marshall. When John’s forces penetrate the bailey, she takes up a weapon and fights against them, but is killed. Her character gets little screen-time and virtually no character development, but at least she made more of an impression than the third female character.
The only important female in the film is Lady Isabel (Kate Mara), who is the wife of Cornhill (Derek Jacobi). She is a young woman married to a much older man who has no interest in her sexually. When Thomas arrives, she is drawn to him because he is such a strong contrast with her husband; Thomas is young, handsome, virile, and a strong leader and decision-maker, while Cornhill is old, hesitant, possibly impotent, and generally a weak leader. While Thomas is determined to hold the castle at all costs, Cornhill waivers repeatedly and has to be prevented from surrendering. Over the course of the siege Thomas and Isabel gradually grow closer, and eventually under her advances, he breaks his oath of celibacy and they have sex. At the end of the film, she is one of three survivors of the siege, along with Thomas and Guy, a young squire. She is last seen carried by Thomas on horseback as he rides away from the castle.
So her trajectory over the course of the film is to first be a forbidden fruit and then gradually to become Thomas’ woman. Her interest in Thomas is presented as entirely a function of Thomas’ superior masculinity in comparison to Cornhill. Thomas fights and suffers greatly over the course of the film, while Cornhill acts much like a fearful old woman. Whereas Thomas finds the internal strength to survive and fight to the end, Cornhill eventually loses his nerve and hangs himself. This is historically incorrect; he survived the siege and was taken prisoner by John after the surrender. As I’ve said before, it’s important to ask why a particular detail is ahistorical, and in this case the answer seems obvious; Cornhill has to die so that Isabel can pair off with Marshall at the end of the film.
If this were as far as the film’s treatment of Isabel went, it would merely be a clichéd ending. But the film takes things a step further and makes it clear that Isabel’s function is to be a prize for Thomas. The contest in this film isn’t just between Thomas and Cornhill, after all. It’s between Thomas and King John and his villainous Viking captain Tiberius (really? A Viking named Tiberius? Sigh.) So Thomas doesn’t just ‘defeat’ Cornhill; he must defeat John and Tiberius as well, and in both cases, his prize is Cornhill’s wife.
At the start of the film, it’s clear that Thomas is a troubled man. He has some sort of secret that led him to become a Templar; this secret is never explained, but it’s clear that Thomas doesn’t really want to be a Templar any more. There is some talk early in the film of his taking a leave from the Templars (I’m not sure how that would work; is he released from his vow of chastity for a couple weeks?) Soon after his arrival at Rochester he abandons his vow of silence (which is a good thing, because a film whose central character can’t speak needs to have a much better script than this one). Then he breaks his vow of chastity by having sex with Isabel. Finally, after the siege is over, Archbishop Stephen Langton (Charles Dance) shows up and gives Thomas his freedom, allowing him to leave the Templars because he’s earned it. This is crucially important, because as a monk, Thomas cannot have a future with Isabel. So Thomas is rewarded for his successful defense of the castle with two interconnected rewards, his freedom from the Templars and his vows of silence and chastity, and Lady Isabel. In other words, he gets Lady Isabel almost explicitly because he ‘won’ the siege. She is almost literally his prize for coming in first in a masculinity contest.
At no point is she asked if she wants to be his; it’s simply assumed that since her husband is dead, she now belongs to Thomas. She is given no agency whatsoever, apart from making a sexual advance on him partway through the film. Whereas the slutty serving girl Agnes at least gets to choose to fight and die, Isabel is kept in the keep and is pushed from room to room to keep her safe.
Most tellingly, when the Vikings force their way into the keep for the final confrontation, Guy the squire is instructed that if the Vikings get past the last line of defense, Guy must kill Isabel, apparently so she won’t raped by the Vikings. This isn’t just a throw-away bit of dialog; Guy agonizes about this command and the film builds tension over whether he will have to carry it out. So in the film’s construction of the events, once Cornhill dies, Isabel simply becomes Thomas’ property, and if he can’t have her, she needs to be killed. In the film’s logic, Isabel must belong to the man who can defend her properly, regardless of whether this is what she wants or not, and if the film’s hero doesn’t get to live with her, her life is worthless.
Let me emphasize that. Isabel has no value of her own in this film. Her entire function is to validate Thomas’ struggle to hold onto the castle.
The film presents this in traditional romantic terms, of course, which means that the film assumes that Isabel’s consent to be Thomas’ property is given the moment she offers herself to Thomas sexually. Having slept with Thomas, she is his, and makes no further choices. The film only gives her one motive for her choice, that she is obviously poorly suited to her husband.
The film never pauses to think that Thomas, by taking control of the castle, has essentially taken both her and her husband hostage to his determination to hold the castle. Nor does it consider that perhaps she offers herself to Thomas purely as a way to survive the siege because he’s obviously a safer bet than relying on her pathetic husband. Or perhaps she’s experiencing Stockholm Syndrome and fallen in love with her captor. Nor does it occur to the film that a poor, penniless knight is not necessarily the best choice of husband for a noble widow who has probably inherited all her late husband’s property. She is a good catch for Thomas, but what he offers her other than his virility is unexplained. But that’s because she’s not really a character in her own right; she’s a prize to be claimed by the victor of the struggle. His superior virility is enough to justify this wealthy prize.
Laid out in these terms, it’s easy to see how a film like Ironclad unintentionally contributes to the misogyny that is so powerfully present in modern American culture. Thomas, like the Isla Vista killer, is entitled to sex from the woman he wants, because her desires are entirely irrelevant. The narrative is male-centric, with Isabel functioning as nothing more than an object of desire. And if Thomas can’t have her, no one should. When films frequently fail to assign women any actual value beyond sex objects and prizes, it’s easy to see why a mentally ill man might come to the same conclusion, and then lash out at them when he fails to win them over. If he can’t have them, no one should.
Arthur Chu has done a good job of exploring exactly this dynamic in nerd culture, in his essay “Your Princess is in Another Castle: Misogyny, Entitlement, and Nerds”. Thomas Marshall gets lucky, because at the end of his adventure, his princess turns out to be in the same castle as he is.
Want to Know More?
Ironcladis available on Amazon.
With havin so much content do you ever run into any issues of
plagorism or copyright infringement? My website has
a lot of completely unique content I’ve either created myself or outsourced but it seems a
lot of it is popping it up all over the internet without my permission. Do
you know any ways to help protect against content from being ripped off?
I’d certainly appreciate it.
LikeLike
Well, I haven’t had any trouble yet, so I’m afraid I don’t have any good suggestions.
LikeLike
Pingback: Centurion: Roman Seal Team Six vs the Killer Picts | An Historian Goes to the Movies
Pingback: Braveheart: Why Braveheart is Actually a Porn Film | An Historian Goes to the Movies
Pingback: Ironclad: Battle for Blood: Pretty Much What You’d Expect from a Sequel | An Historian Goes to the Movies
Pingback: Beowulf: Shame on You, Neil Gaiman | An Historian Goes to the Movies
I can see the trope in film of the woman being the prize, but back then, what was a woman really? Nowadays, women are given more of a variety of opportunities to create their own identity and gain autonomy from it, but back then, there really wasn’t much choice beyond a wife and mother. She couldn’t go out and get a college degree in a variety of careers! Most men didn’t have that option either, they too were fitted into immobile social castes. If she chose not to take him as her husband, she’d end up being alone. A good match was the way to secure a woman’s future and security, much like a good job was and is for a man today. All of society had more rigid roles that everyone was to fit in, from royalty to peasants, the modern notions of autonomy and social mobility are not appropriate to judge medieval culture. Even then, only less than a century ago, we had very different views on women ourselves, so I think we all should keep that in mind before judging other cultures values. A woman really didn’t need the level of autonomy women have now, since whatever she did, she would end up a wife and mother to whatever man she chose. I think women are underrated for their passive role in male pursuits. It was the woman’s child that secured the throne, or brought peace to a kingdom. The men can make whatever treaties they wanted, but the woman’s job was to “seal the deal” so to speak. Even if it was passively done on her part, securing the peace and future of the kingdom is not a trivial achievement. royalty’s lives are always guided by needs that may not be their choosing. I honestly question the level of autonomy most powerful and noble men had in their own political and social decisions.
https://historyisfascinating.wordpress.com/
LikeLike
You’re right that medieval noblewomen didn’t have lots of options. They had more than this film suggests–Isabel literally has no options whatsoever in the film, except for her decision–if we can call it that–to offer herself to Thomas. But they did have some. At the end of the film, Isabel is a widow–her husband has died– and since there’s no suggestion that he has any children, that means she’s his heir. She has some wealth–the ruined castle and the manors associated with it, plus whatever other wealth her family might have given her as a dowry. And as a widow, she has some control over her remarriage, although she might have to pay King John for that right. So after the siege, she doesn’t have to just go with Thomas. She’s actually about as free as it’s possible for a woman to be in 13th century England–she has some wealth, and has legal control over herself and her body. At her age, marriage is almost inevitable, but Thomas is literally penniless–since he’s a member of a monastic order, he owns no property. Going off with him is a remarkably stupid thing for her to do, because he offers her absolutely nothing except a proven ability to fight.
But even if we all that aside, my bigger problem with the film is that it never even CONSIDERS Isabel’s wishes. It’s just a given that she wants to be with him because he’s the hero. The film never asks if maybe she’s hooking up with him because she’s in a vulnerable situation and he’s the best choice. Her desires are so utterly unimportant in the film that it never occurs to the film-makers that maybe she has some desires.
So, as I said, the film situates her entirely as a prize to be won. She may as well be a valuable cow or horse.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think it’s pretty clear from the beginning she’s very attracted to him. So I’d say she’s choosing him on her own accord. There were other men she could have been interested in there at the keep before he got there, but there’s no indication that she had any interest in them. Thomas was an honorable, brave knight recently returned from the crusades (if I’m remembering the movie right, been awhile since I saw it), and it doesn’t hurt that he looks like James Purefoy. So I think it’s very reasonable that she’s fallen in love with him. And though they leave together, I don’t think anything was said about her giving up her inheritance. They may have been going to another land her husband held, leaving that very important military strongpoint to the responsibility of the king’s army. Just a thought.
LikeLike
I don’t think you can say that she’s choosing him of her own free will when he’s literally standing between her and death.
I don’t think she’s giving up her inheritance. I think she’s giving it away to a man who brings her literally nothing. The film doesn’t want you to view it that way, but that’s what’s going on. He wins the battle, and so he gets the woman and her property as his prize.
An additional issue for me is that literally her only standout characteristic, other than her appearance, is that she’s attracted to Thomas. She literally has no other remarkable traits. So she’s a one-dimensional character, another sign she’s there to serve as a prize.
LikeLike
Pingback: Mohenjo Daro: Back to the Bronze Age | An Historian Goes to the Movies
Isabel would have gone through hell if not for thomas. Probable gang rape by Johns army. Her leaving with him was an act of gratitude and an understandable one.
LikeLike
No, as a member of the nobility, she would have been protected from that by John. She was too value for John to permit that.
LikeLike
John was an absolute monster , remember what he did to the baron ? Also , john wasn’t in control of the area at the end of the film. The king of France was. Given the circumstances , Isabel was probably wise to leave with thomas.
LikeLike
John was not, in fact, a monster. He was beloved by his servants, for example. He imprisoned d’Aubeny rather than cutting off his hands and feet.
Part of the problem here is that we’re so used to films that treat women as prizes for men that it seems natural for the women to act that way. Screenwriters, especially for action films, train us to not consider the woman’s point of view, so it becomes hard to think about the issue any other way.
LikeLike
Very well done—this post mentions everything that is wrong with this damsel in distress/woman as the prize trope. For viewers not to be able to see how harmful and misogynistic Guy’s orders to murder Isabel should the castle be breached is extremely distressing. It would be another thing entirely if she were given the choice, and had decided that she would rather commit suicide than be sexually assulted, but she isn’t even consulted. It is just decided that even though Thomas has already had sex with her (likely as a pure virgin, since her husband is impotent—very important detail), her life is worth nothing to him if another man puts his penis inside her, and therefore she should die before that can happen. Very Elliot Rodgers-type attitude indeed. It’s interesting that many of the men who think that this sort of attitude is okay (that a woman’s life only has value so far as she can be used to fulfill his needs) are the same ones making misguided anti-abortion arguments, claiming that they think all life is precious (without speaking for either side of this very complex issue, i will say that you cannot claim that you feel all life is precious while simultaneously taking women’s choices away from them). But i digress.
I’s also like to add the point that in marrying Thomas, Isabel would be making a huge step down in social class, and since nobility is inherited through the father, her children wouldn’t be considered nobility. Not something that a responsible middle-ages noblewoman would do.
LikeLike
Exactly right. A young heiress, or for that matter heir, was pretty helpless but a widow, a grown woman with financial resources and most likely useful connections had some control over what happened to her.
Isabel is unlikely to be in danger of rape since as a rich widow she is potentially valuable to John and rape would damage her value. The King may hope to reward a supporter with her hand and lands but if Isabel can make him a better monetary offer or has connections he needs to keep friendly she can buy her own marriage.
Thomas isn’t entirely beyond consideration, she finds him attractive and he’s proven his worth as a protector but medieval women generally took a practical rather than romantic view of marriage and there would be plenty of more advantageous possibilities.
Maybe if she’d been shown considering her options and choosing Thomas rather than just being part of his baggage…
LikeLike