If you see this film and witness some kind of glorification of sexualizing these young girls; if you are only bringing that creepy ogling gaze to this work, then I question your motives, intentions and understanding. This is speaking about realities that our society is embroiled in and it might push some boundaries, but that is needed to provoke thought and discussion. But it is never done to aggrandize or proliferate, but to recognize, analyze, and critique that penchant within our modern world to precipitantly plant the mature despite its harmful fruit.
It is a film about rebellion, self expression, and a sense of empowerment trapped within a certain over sexualization. An expressive picture of wanting to grow up too fast and the innocence being ground out without understanding the ramifications. Hurting children filling that void, too young to be women but pushing those boundaries. Escaping their situations by straining to be older than they are. Here, that also gets tied in with friendship and getting acceptance. One leads to the other, which spirals out in every way possible.
The juxtaposition of the intense rigidity and restrained nature of her devout Muslim heritage and the overly expansive, hyper sexed, adult obsessed modern girl who experience. The pulsing Sword of Damocles of womanhood and her religion, represented within her gown sent from her estranged father was tremendous symbolism. That paired with the supposed demonic exorcism through fitful dance (right on the nose), the glitterous reminder of the new wedding of her father, and the happy uncanny flying of her jump rope freedom are these magical realism dashes, sucking you into the imaginative world of the pre-teen life. Her being released from her duties for a happy medium attire and a true freedom to go and be herself; not the repressed woman of her family, nor the skimpy sex pot of the society’s streets, no, just a normal girl able to smile and jump rope is the ultimate Goldilocks realization and THAT is magical in itself.
The magical realism in these ephemeral nods reminded me of The Fits. Quite similar actually, in all ways. The first time features from female writer/directors (Maïmouna Doucouré and Anna Rose Holmer) featuring blossoming young black girls finding expression and identification in adult oriented dance, all the while surrounded by the encroaching illness of adulthood, and the flittering edges of magical realism. Cuties is not as strong as The Fits, but they are surprisingly similar.
There is a leering gaze often at play. But I don’t think that is to glamorize but to give it perspective and to make it feel kind of gross. The fact that every male gaze is puerile and shuddersome is on purpose. To not pick up on this seems obtuse or perhaps willfully unseen. To ignore this frees one up to lob attacks at the film, which became the frame for its ingestion. It became a film about controversy, which hyped it both for the positive and negative. This is a poignant and nicely comprised little film that is good - not fantastic and not a scourge to civil society - simply a good little film. The film expresses the strength and burden of sexuality, used as a tool and a weapon, but without full understanding of either within the sphere of these young girls. Perhaps that incomprehension extended further out than just the screen.
