Nine ½ Weeks: The Issue of Consent

I know it’s an old film, but it has been on my mind a lot recently, for one reason in particular. Reading some of the critics’ reviews of the movie, I was surprised at how well some of them actually understood the dynamic between the characters: Elizabeth and John. But even Roger Ebert, whose review I generally agreed with, saw the ending of the film as a victory of personality over purely sexual desire: while kinky sex is all well and good, in the end without a deeper connection and knowledge of each other, Elizabeth walks away from John, thinking that she just spent nine and a half weeks having an erotic affair with a perfect stranger.

But somehow, watching the film after I already began my journey into BDSM, I didn’t see that lack of a more personal connection as the reason why the two characters split up. Kinky sex, or any sexual experimentation outside of the traditional heteronormative relationship, I believe, necessitates a deeper intimacy, as the participants are thrown off balance, taken outside their comfort zones, away from the prescribed reactions and responses: this is how you’re supposed to feel when he does this, and these are the sounds you make when you are feeling pleasure, etc. When you’re experiementing, you give up the advance knowledge of your body’s responses. All of a sudden, you may find yourself moaning in pleasure as you’re being hurt, or screaming in pain as you orgasm. You may find that you are not experiencing pangs of jealousy as your partner fucks another, or, you may realize you like to do things that for the outside vanilla world sound disgusting or even debasing. There is a kind of honesty inherent in such new experiences, that comes from simply not having had the time to fake a reaction, or from not having a prescribed path to follow. And from that honesty, in my experience, comes a deeper personal connection – not necessarily love or even a long-term partnership, but a deeper knowledge of one another in each other’s vulnerable and unscripted states.

So why is it that Elizabeth is so freaked out by the end of the film that she has to leave, while she’s still, obviously, longing for John? I think it is the issue of consent and communication. While we can tell that John is more experienced in this kinky lifestyle than Elizabeth, and that he is naturally dominant (which makes him responsible for her), he still makes the mistake of assuming that Elizabeth is self-aware and strong enough to follow him into his kink without getting hurt: that she knows her desires and her limits, and can stop him without breaking what they have. But Elizabeth has no idea what she is getting into! And having had no experience stepping outside her comfort zone, as well as being in a vulnerable place to begin with -- she is recently divorced, she does not have the sense of self, or the strength, to control her situation. And this is what most of the critics reviewing this film (and probably most its viewers) didn’t understand: in a D/s relationship, while one of the partners does submit to the other, they both shoulder the responsibility for the relationship, for setting and abiding by each other’s limits, for being able to safeword out of a scene that isn’t theirs. Though they are in a power dynamic where one dominates the other, they are still equals in the amount of power each of them has to stay in or end the scene, and to ensure that balance they have to communicate their desires, state their hard limits, and discuss the scenes either before or after (or both) to see what worked and what didn’t. Without that openness, they don’t leave each other room for mistakes, and every error or misunderstanding might break their relationship. This communication, in turn, involves consent on both sides, and even though it may look like the submissive has no control, she has to consent to giving it up – and even then, she has the power to get out of the scene she is not ok with through safewording. Anything other than that I see as a dangerous abuse of power that is fraught with danger of physical and psychological harm, or at least, misunderstandings fatal to any relationship.

Elizabeth doesn’t have the power of consent, because John doesn’t give her that option. We see throughout the film that she doesn’t know how to end a scene except by leaving after the harm has already been done: as we see when John puts her in a room with a prostitute. Because she never knows what’s coming next, Elizabeth can’t prevent things from happening, and so it really puts John in complete control over her (granted, he takes that control and doesn’t leave her with much of a choice). Yes, that makes for a better film that’s much more enjoyable to watch and shows the life of kink as much more dangerous and erotic than if we got to see the behind the scenes negotiations and the gradual growth of the characters that would prepare them properly for each scene – let’s face it, successful lovey-dovey relationships that don’t hit any major roadblocks don’t exactly make for great stories. But I think that’s exactly what goes wrong between John and Elizabeth in the end – they get into a scene that doesn’t work for her, one that pushes her limits too far, and she runs away. Their last meeting shows us exactly how much John cares for her – he is not the selfish careless bastard who just wanted her for the fulfillment of his sexual fantasies. I believe he really wanted to explore Elizabeth’s kinky side, to push her to open up to the desires hidden inside her, but because he didn’t do it gently enough or carefully enough, giving her the choice to either consent or break the scene without leaving him or getting hurt, she doesn’t see his love, and so he loses her. Without clear and open communication between them, he forces her to reveal aspects of herself without revealing much of himself, and that swings the balance of power unequivocally to his side, creating an unhealthy relationship. And while Elizabeth is strong enough to walk out when she is pushed beyond her limits, she is not self-aware or knowledgeable enough (neither about him, nor about her own choices in their relationship) to stay and fix what they have, to negotiate and make it work for the two of them. But she doesn’t leave a bad affair, one that only hurt and didn’t benefit her; on the contrary, she leaves with a lot of regret for what it could’ve developed into, but didn’t have a chance to become.