Women in woman’s films

While examining the film industry, it becomes clear that the vast majority of films are shaped by the male approach. Introducing a female perspective into this predominantly male-dominated art form is a significant goal. While it has been a challenging and arduous task for women to establish themselves as directors, the number of successful female directors has been gradually increasing. However, this trend is not yet evident in Azerbaijani cinema. Even when female directors are present, female characters are often portrayed in traditional roles— one step behind the man, supportive lover, faithful wife, or devoted mother—while women who deviate from these roles are typically depicted as unhappy. As long as female directors continue to view female characters through the male approach, their films risk being perceived as mere imitations of successful male-directed works. The audience may continue to see female characters’ stories from a male perspective, regardless of the director’s gender. It is crucial to acknowledge that female characters are rarely depicted as fully realized subjects or protagonists in cinema. Female directors need to ensure that these characters are not objectified at all. Each woman’s story should be told by woman from a female perspective.

This article aims to study the representation of women in films directed by women by periods. The goal is to analyze whether and how the portrayal of women by female directors has evolved with historical changes.

The role of female directors in Azerbaijani cinema has often been overlooked. Historically, while women have contributed as assistant directors and first AD in feature films, their work has predominantly focused on documentaries and children’s cinema. An intriguing aspect of their films is the portrayal of female characters, who are depicted with greater colorfulness and complexity. These directors present women not only in domestic settings but also in social and political contexts. However, the perspective from which the female character is portrayed in these films is crucial, as it influences how the character is represented and understood.

Gamar Salamzadeh is recognized as the first female film director in the Muslim East. She worked as an assistant director on several significant films of Azerbaijani cinema. Like many female filmmakers, she primarily focused on documentary. Salamzadeh succeeded in creating an ideal portrait of women within the documentary genre. Even if it was a biographical film, the way of characters depiction and the messages conveyed to the audience are shaped by the director’s vision. One of her notable works is “Song of Healing” (1944), which she both directed and scripted.

The documentary focuses on the young doctor Husniyya Diyarova and is distinctly woman-centric. The film not only showcases a female doctor performing her duties but also delves into the vastness of a woman’s world and her profound love for human. Gamar Salamzadeh skillfully creates the elegance and strength of the female image within an 8-minute runtime. The film eschews cultural and traditional image codes, instead presenting a universal woman through an ideological framework. In the opening scene, we see the woman coming from the sea, and in the last scene, she is once again gazing at the sea from the rocks. Her activities are shown between these two scenes by director, highlighting that, beyond her social role, Husniyya is always a woman with character, feelings, and emotions. We are impressed not only by her performance visuals during surgery but also by her steadfastness and courage as a person. The woman is in harmony with nature in the film. Against the backdrop of the infinite sea, Husniyya’s footprints in the sand and the impact she leaves on the lives of wounded soldiers underscore the visual storytelling and add a poetic dimension. The director portrays her as a nurturing figure, caring for the wounded like a mother and guiding them toward a new life. The film avoids any sexist or patriarchal perspectives.

Zeynab Kazimova is one of the pioneering female film directors of Azerbaijan. Her independent work, “The Last prayer” (1963), arouses interest on the themes of generational differences among women, their relationships with men, and their struggles with them. The film’s central theme is women’s religious ignorance and their belief in various superstitions, contrasting the unenlightened and submissive women who depend on men with the educated, independent women of the new generation who take control of their own destinies. The generation is changing. The film reflects changing historical conditions that allow both women and men to advocate for equal rights. There is no overtly sexist approach here; instead, the film addresses the generational divide. Kazimova is notably critical of the disparity between the old and new generations of women, portraying a modern woman who challenges both men and women from the older generation. The new woman is celebrated as an ideal, yet the image of women is not fully revealed. The film falls short of fully exploring the complexity of women’s lives and inner worlds within its brief runtime.

Nevertheless, “The Last Prayer” signifies Zeynab Kazimova’s potential for future success in feature filmmaking. Ultimately, the laughter of both men and women in the end symbolizes the laughter of the new generation, reflecting their ability to laugh at themselves.

Gulbaniz Azimzadeh is one of the few female filmmakers in Azerbaijan who has special style on feature films. In her work, she often explores the connection between a woman’s inner and outer worlds through visualisation. Her film “The Last Night of Last Year” (1983) is particularly noteworthy in this regard. Although the protagonist of the film is a woman, the patriarchal perspective dominates the narrative. Despite being main protagonist, she is not objectively depicted in a way that challenges the patriarchal system. Instead, she embodies a one-dimensional social role. As a mother, she is portrayed solely as a widow and a self-sacrificing woman, with no representation beyond these roles.

In the film, dialogues highlight the beauty of a woman’s voice, yet she no longer sings. Her voice “dies” together with her husband, and she also forgot both the act of singing and the harmony of her own voice. Mother cannot reclaim that lost voice as a woman. The woman’s memories are only relate to her husband and family. The woman misses the days when she was complete as a family in the past. Her life before marriage is left unexplored. Therefore, “woman— as a woman” does not fully emerge in the film. No film explicitly displays the sexist perspective mentioned earlier, but it can be inferred from the harmony created by objects and colors, such as photographs of the wife on the wall and her voice recordings. The viewer experiences comfort and warmth because the film adheres to traditional codes, making it familiar. However, this tradition also highlights the difficulty that women face in being portrayed as subjects in their own right.  It is quite difficult for a woman to be a subject, to be seen as a “woman” in the traditional stuff.

The film is presented from a male perspective, not a female one. As a result, the images directed by a female director align with the dictates of a patriarchal system. Additionally, the film portrays a woman’s motherhood and her enjoyment of a holiday with her children in a way that another woman envies.

In one scene, a woman is getting dressed when the postman knocks on the door. The main character, adhering to traditional norms, invites the man to the table. As the woman listens, her loneliness and internal thoughts are expressed through a male voiceover. This voiceover reveals deep truths that profoundly sadden her. In the film, the woman symbolizes the inner space, contrasting with the masculine representation of outdoor spaces. While only one female character stands out from the rest in the film, this distinction is not fully conveyed.

Conflict arises between Rustam and his fiancée, and the mother tries smooth things over between them. After reconciliation, the girl invites Rustam to celebrate a holiday. Both the woman and her daughter Dilara, as well as her son Rustam, are associated with the domestic, feminine space. In contrast, the woman’s younger son Tofig and Rustam’s fiancée are seen in outdoor settings.

In one scene, a female figure skater is shown on TV, prompting the girls cooking in the kitchen to be called. The woman’s eldest daughter, Gulara, also did not deviate from the traditional image of a woman. Taking care of her child and pleasing her husband is presented as the foundation of her life. Here, the wife asserts her influence and authority not only over Gulara but also over Rustam. Dilara’s feelings of jealousy towards her own gender emerge when she discusses another girl with the boys. Throughout the film, Dilara aligns with the designated spaces.

We encounter a similar situation in Mehriban Alekbarzadeh’s film “Prisoners” (2006). The main theme of the film revolves around the quest to find the murderer of a gynecologist. The film’s protagonist, Eldar, confesses to the crime for a woman he loves, only for it to be revealed in the end that he did not actually commit the murder. The film’s narrative indicates that there is no female character who acts as an autonomous subject. However, beneath the surface, we witness the world of women, including the suffering of leprous women and their rebellion against their fate.

The central female character, Leyla, embodies passivity and the need for protection. Her rejection by society and her father’s grief ultimately drive her to suicide. This portrayal aligns with the male gaze’s expectations for certain. In contrast, Aziza is presented as Leyla’s opposite. Aziza is a more complex and compelling character. While she is also a victim, she seeks revenge and displays greater daring. Aziza, is not a rascaless woman with a leprosy but she has a successful past as a dancer. The film deprives her of the role of motherhood—an aspect that is often reserved for the helpless and naïve woman needing a strong male hero. Not her dreams, her desired role of motherhood is taken away from her in the film. Amorosa being a mother goes against the classic film storytelling. Being a mother is better suited to a helpless, naïve woman who needs a strong male hero. Aziza shares with the nurse in her dialogue that she is not a woman. Here, Aziza practices sexualization.

It is clear from the examples that female directors in Azerbaijani cinema have not struggled to overcome the male perspective in their own work, even after many years. It can be concluded that despite the presence of richly colored female roles in the films of female directors who cannot break the chains of the patriarchal mind, they have not yet formed a female point of view.

Alina Abdullayeva’s film “Try not to breathe” (2006) stands out for its poetic soul. In this film, a young and beautiful woman is presented from the perspective of her deep affection to a middle-aged, ill man. This love compels her to engage in a perilous game, embodying a form of self-sacrifice. The woman is in the search here. Perfection in her own life does not satisfy her.This ultimately leads man to recognize her spiritual strength.

From these examples, it is evident that female directors in Azerbaijani cinema have not fully confronted the male gaze in their work, even after many years. Despite featuring richly developed female characters, these directors have yet to break free from the constraints of patriarchal perspectives and establish a distinctly female point of view.

Shalala Badalova