Isn’t it rather adorable how many self-proclaimed “men’s rights activists” go on about how women are trying to create a society without men at all, as if men were really needed for anything in the first place? It’s almost as if Peter Strickland, director of Berberian Sound Studio, read about these nincompoops and decided to answer that question. How would women get along without men? Perfectly fine, at least if The Duke of Burgundy has anything to say about it. While that may not be the central thesis of Strickland’s film, it’s a fascinating choice to have the story take place in some sort of vague alternate universe where men don’t seem to exist at all. Instead, The Duke of Burgundy is far more concerned with relationships, and how we communicate with one another in them. How far will we go to make our lovers happy, and what are we willing to do when that trust is betrayed?
The film opens with a woman named Evelyn arriving at the home of a wealthy older woman named Cynthia to work as her maid. She is coldly ordered to perform menial tasks, until finally making a small mistake while washing her employer’s delicates. As punishment, she’s taken into the bathroom, where the older woman proceeds to pee in her mouth. These two women are deeply, madly in love.
Their lives outside of one another aren’t presented with much in the way of specifics. We know that Cynthia studies moths and butterflies at a nearby research institution, and that Evelyn is a student or understudy of sorts, but not much else about their wealth or lives outside of their sexual games. Evelyn is aroused by being dominated and humiliated, and Cynthia is happy to oblige her fantasies if it makes her truly happy. For a time, this role-play repeats with the kind of vagueness of Abbas Kiarostami’s Certified Copy, never really letting us in on who is in control, or how this dynamic even began. What is clear, however, is that the two women want to make each other happy, and that their expressions of love will forever be at odds between the conventional and unconventional.
For the most part, Cynthia happily indulges Evelyn’s fantasies, but finds them tiring after some time, conflicting with her own insecurities about aging out of Evelyn’s favor. Will she eventually leave her for a younger, more voluptuous mistress? Strickland’s exquisite use of mirrors only strengthens the insecurities of his characters, as they ponder over every detail of their bodies, and thus, their souls. Evelyn sweats nervously as a stunning Frenchwoman measures her for a domination bed she plans to order, while Cynthia finds herself frustrated as she struggles to fit into her elaborate outfits that Evelyn insists she wears to inspire their games. Their sexual relationship may be a bit more out there than most, but the things they leave said and unsaid are universal truths that just about any couple could relate to.
In fact, it might be the most humane portrait of a marriage (or whatever you want to call it) in a very long time, never once striving to place one partner as more in the right than the other. Instead, Strickland presents a moving, relatable affair, focused almost entirely on the give and take nature of love. As their conflicts come to a head, Cynthia insists on turning their games more malicious, as punishment for real-life offenses. Crying out her safe word on the floor, Evelyn’s attempt to escape a particular game is rebuffed by a chilling response that “If only we could all say that word and be free of our torment”. It’s a cruel reaction to a betrayal, particularly for taking advantage of Evelyn’s inability to resist, even as it drains both their spirits completely and loses all romantic meaning. As Strickland escalates the tension, so too the twisted nature of his imagery, evoking the death-like visions of Bergman and Tarkovsky in a sequence that should honestly come with an image-induced epilepsy warning. Skeletons, dark forests, and insects all make an appearance throughout, and when we come back to reality, it’s as cold and unfeeling as the dialogue in their games.
Truly, then, it’s heartbreaking to see them come to no real sense of closure, forgiving one another for past grievances, only to fall back into routine. Are they doomed to repeat the cycle over and over again, even when attempting to start fresh? It’s the kind of uncertainty that we all face with our lovers, staring into the abyss of an unknown future that we can only hope, like Cynthia and Evelyn, to make it through another day.
