The Sincere Irony of Lynne Stopkewich's Kissed

In his book Film in Canada, Jim Leach identifies Lynne Stopkewich’s 1996 film Kissed as a seminal example of the Canadian “smart” film. The use of quotations marks around “smart” is intentional – quotations simultaneously denote emphasis and opposition – in this case quotations are used as a device to suggest irony. Indeed, the “smart” film is a genre dependent upon an ironic attitude. Kissed tackles the taboo subject of necrophilia. However, the film never concerns itself with the ethical issues surrounding the actions of the death-obsessed protagonist Sandra Larson (Molly Parker). As a result, I too will not be judging necrophilia as socially unacceptable behaviour. Instead I will explore how necrophilia functions in Kissed to accomplish (what I term) a “sincere irony.”

To paraphrase a professor of mine, the ironic is marked by the difference between “those who get it” and “those who don’t.” “Smart” films such as Kissed invoke irony using five shared elements. The first is a blankness or blandness of style (through editing, camera work, and/or acting). There is no effort to affect feeling, no matter how shocking the subject matter. The second element is the use of incongruous narrative, or a radical juxtaposition of feeling. These two elements are clearly evidenced in Kissed – though Sandra engages in intercourse with dead bodies, the film’s tone remains consistently neutral throughout. The third shared element of ironic films is the notion of synchronicity in the narrative. Characters remain unchanged by the end of the film. Indeed, there is no attempt to redeem or “cure” Sandra of her necrophilia. The fourth element and fifth elements of ironic films are a focus on middle-class alienation (sometimes embodied by the “awkward couple” archetypes), and a recurring interest in the politics of taste, consumerism and identity.

Canadian “smart” films are not merely concerned with an ironic address – there is an overt appeal for sincerity. Writes Jim Leach, “Canadian films tend to be a little less smart, in the sense that they want to hang on to a sense of the ‘real’, however difficult this may be in itself and
especially in a culture saturated in ‘hyper-real’ media images.” The search for the ‘real’; the desperate grasp for the last remaining shred of sincerity is partially informed by the intended audience of the “smart” film. While American “smart” films, (such as Terry Zwigoff’s Ghost World or Alexander Payne’s Election) are targeted at Generation X (“those who get it”), Canadian “smart” films are intended for those who actively seek out Canadian films; who have a sincere desire to experience Canadian films.

If Canadian “stupid” films are vulgar comedies of the body, then “smart” films are concerned with language. However, Stopkewich’s film focuses on the dichotomy between irony and sincerity as it relates to both language and the body. Language forms the ironic tone of the film. At the core of Sandra’s failed relationship with Matt (Peter Outerbridge) are their ironic, bland conversations about relationships, sex, and necrophilia. Sandra represents those who “who get [necrophilia]”, while Matt’s pathetic attempts to understand and emulate Sandra’s behaviour represents “those who don’t”. Sandra and Matt occupy a space in ironic films reserved for the “awkward couple.” Their middle-class alienation is at the root of a sincere desire to experience the ‘real’. For Sandra, the ‘real’ is intrinsically linked with the body. Only when she engages in necrophilia does she experience any sort of transcendence. Even the title, Kissed, is a clue to the importance of a physical, bodily act. In an effort to satisfy Sandra, Matt hangs himself in front of her. The film closes with images of Sandra making love to Matt’s lifeless body. At this point, the film’s blank, ironic tone gives way to a more expressive, emotional style (slow motion, overexposure of the film stock, etc). The irony of language is eschewed in favour of the spiritual awakening of the body. As Kissed fades to black, Sarah MacLachlan’s Fumbling Towards Ecstasy plays out over the final credits; a sincerely ironic ending.