The opening moments of Brainwashed: Sex-Camera-Power analyze Sofia Coppola’s work and spotlight the two central figures. The first image shows a woman lying on her side in bed, back to the camera, wearing sheer pink underwear and a blue sweater. Another garment is barely visible in a dim setting, revealing only the body from hips to knees. The second image follows Bill Murray, sleepy in a taxi gliding through central Tokyo. The woman’s face conveys emotion within a recognizable space. Even if the audience recognizes the actor, the identity could be anyone for a viewer arriving without prior knowledge of the cast, including Scarlett Johansson. She appears as the observing subject while the other figure remains the observed object. These shots underscore the film’s core argument about gender bias in cinematic language, a thesis amplified by director Nina Menkes in her documentary. Brainwashed: Sex-Camera-Power [Cited: interview sources and documentary material].
Channel TCM frames the work within a program cycle published for International Women’s Day on March 8. The monthlong plan was built around the film’s release. Originally premiered at the Sundance Festival in 2022, it generated significant buzz, delighting the director and provoking some controversy. In a video call, Menkes described conversations with members of the Directors Guild of America (DGA), noting that many women who viewed the film during the festival are DGA members and even sat on the organization’s Women’s Executive Committee. They organized a screening at the DGA’s headquarters, but the Guild declined, offering reasons that seemed to sidestep members’ convenience at home. Menkes compares this to a wider struggle in the industry, set against a backdrop of life in Los Angeles and creative dialogue from home in Takis. [Cited: Menkes on DGA response and festival reception].
Documentary work is the third format through which Menkes conveys a critique of mainstream film industry practices, particularly those that affect women. The film cites statistics showing that only 9% of the top 250 U.S. films released in 1998 were directed by women, a figure that rose only slightly by 2018. The aim is not to sensationalize but to illuminate how these patterns have persisted. The project draws on material from a journal article series that Menkes authored, which explored how visual language can shape perception on screen. Clips from classic cinema and interviews with other filmmakers anchor the discourse and illustrate the argument directly on screen.
“The male gaze is a form that appears so codified it can feel like law.”
Machismo in the film industry has long been discussed, from the roles normally assigned to women to salary disparities and unequal opportunities. Menkes approaches these issues through a technical lens, building on feminist theory such as Laura Mulvey’s 1973 essay Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema, which introduced the concept of the male gaze. Menkes asserts that this perspective translates into a visual language that dictates how characters appear, sometimes treating women as if the framework itself is a rulebook.
The analysis highlights several keys: the design of shots determines who is active and who is passive; framing often presents men in full view, while women are fragmented. Nudity can appear regardless of its relevance to the plot. Camera movement and lighting reinforce these dynamics: women are frequently shown in slow motion to emphasize sexuality, while men appear in action or violence; harsh, direct light on male protagonists adds depth, whereas female figures may be dimmed, flattened, or rendered in two dimensions.
“Framing reveals full male bodies; female bodies are often disassembled, with nudity appearing more freely.”
Instances from well-known films illustrate these patterns. In Carrie (Brian De Palma, 1976), the locker room scene follows a volleyball sequence, and nudity arises in a context where it feels unnecessary. A Bond girl like Ursula Andress or Halle Berry may emerge from the ocean, while Rita Hayworth in Shanghai Express (1947) is repeatedly framed in a bikini amidst a bright, male-dominated setting. Even Hitchcock’s Rear Window (1954) can be read as a tribute to the male gaze, a recurring motif in cinematic history.
“I started thinking about this 25 years ago, when I began making my own films. I realized my perspective as a woman was not represented in the movies,” Menkes notes. “Few people in film school believed there were female directors. Godard was treated as a god, and questioning his portrayal of women drew incredulous looks. Today, in the wake of MeToo, audiences seem more willing to listen.”
If that’s what audiences see all the time, it becomes invisible—air. A woman might reproduce this trope just as easily as a man,”
Her filmography is rich and diverse. Menkes’s early work includes A Soft Warrior (1981), which stars her sister Tinka Menkes and includes collaborations with other titles like Magdalena Viraga (1986), Bloody Boy (1996), and Crazy Bloody Women Center (2000). In later years she signed a short contract for the project Female Lion (2022). She also acts as her own cinematographer, describing an intuitive approach to framing that aims to dethrone the male gaze. This perspective resonates with other filmmakers, including Sofia Coppola, who is discussed in terms of how perspective can shift within a gendered landscape. A producer and director, Amy Ziering explains the point in Brainwashed: “If that’s what we always see, it becomes invisible, air—so it’s possible for a woman to reproduce the trope just as a man would.”
Menkes argues that this cinematic language directly influences real-world harms, including sexual violence and workplace discrimination. Rape culture is perpetuated through on-screen scenes that normalize coercion, while MeToo revelations have shown that a high percentage of women in Hollywood have faced harassment or assault. A veteran collaborator recalls how safety and consent on set have become essential topics in contemporary production.
Despite ongoing media coverage of such issues, the hope is that awareness continues to grow and that film workers can navigate gender dynamics more responsibly. The aim is to confront the gaze openly and reduce power imbalances on set and in storytelling.
Movie bodies
On March 9, Movistar Plus+ will premiere the documentary Movie Bodies by Kristy Guevara-Flanagan. Debuting at Tribeca in 2022, this work also examines objectification and hypersexualization in cinema through the lens of the male gaze, as Menkes emphasizes. The film includes voices from actors and filmmakers to discuss body representation, digital retouching for rejuvenation, body image, privacy coordinators on set, and how transgender or disabled identities are portrayed on screen. Rosanna Arquette is among those featured, though the focus remains broad and critical rather than personal. The documentary also foregrounds interview material to illuminate how industry practices shape perception and reinforce stereotypes.
Both documentaries converge on a shared concern: on-screen violence and the objectification of women persist because the cinematic gaze has long been anchored in patriarchy. The conversations in these works underscore the need for change and the importance of diverse perspectives in creating a healthier, more equitable film culture. They argue that a shift in how scenes are framed, lit, and edited could alter audiences’ understandings of female agency and autonomy.