In 2017, Anastasia Vaitsopoulou, writer for AthensLive, went out to interview people across the globe to record the most common assumptions and stereotypes they had about Greek men versus Greek women. The top three adjectives used to describe Greek men included: hedonistic, greedy, and proud. The top adjectives recorded to describe Greek women included: mysterious, talkative, and emotional. It’s no secret that stark differences exist between the expectations of men and women. Whether these differences pertain to job expectations, social norms, or even personality traits- cultures across the globe continue to designate women and men into specific categories. So how does a society attempt to tackle these gender-specific constraints that have been in place throughout the past several centuries? Perhaps one way, is through film and media. Three Greek films released in 2019 that explore and attempt to fracture gender stereotype expectations include Pause (Toni Mishiali), Her Job (Nikos Labot), and Flickering Souls Set Alight (Iakovos Panagopoulos). By examining the way one specific event can transform our entire lives in a single instant, the three feature films examine the fragility of life, the complexity of self-discovery, and the additional complications of being a woman within the Greek culture.
Patriarchal Roots
Written and directed by Toni Mishiali, Pause examines the way a domesticated housewife named Elpida, begins to analyze her self-identity after experiencing the medical onset of menopause. The film’s opening scene takes places in a medical doctor’s office, featuring Elpida whose legs are spread wide open with the help of stirrups. After a typical pelvic examination, a doctor then begins to rattle off an impossible list of symptoms, only to finally conclude that in short, Elpida has “nothing to worry about” as her prognosis is simply the onset of menopause. The doctor’s simple prognosis proves to be quite far-fetched however, as Elpida begins to suffer not only physically from the uncomfortable symptoms, but also mentally, as her imagination becomes awakened for the very first time.
After visiting the doctor’s office, Elpida returns home, to attend to the mundane activities of her life: the moment Elpida goes home, she immediately must tend to her husband’s (Costas) every need. The couple resides in a modest apartment, and the only interaction between the two, occurs over a typical silent dinner, or whenever Elpida must fetch something for her domineering husband. Though the relationship between the two is obviously strained and unequal, the representation of their assigned gender roles is especially reminiscent of the antiquated patriarchal expectations for both genders in Cyprus. Achilleas Hadjikyriacou, a Scientific Officer at the Research Promotion Foundation in Cyprus, and author of Masculinity and Gender in Greek Cinema, explains: “The description of Greek culture as a male-dominated phenomenon left women in the position of being described merely as ‘mute objects’” (21). As cultural and societal expectations for Greek men have revolved around the notion of being domineering and superior, women have thus suffered the consequence of falling into the role of the inferior and have been locked into a world of silence. This phenomenon is brilliantly conveyed throughout Pause and is especially evident during one specific scene of the film: after Costas and Elpida have a typical soundless dinner at home, the two retreat to their respective place in their living room. Costas sits in front of the television to view his sports program, turning up the volume as loud as he desires; Elpida on the other hand, retreats to her silent corner of the room, where she must watch her desired nature program via headphones. The scene captures Elpida’s complete seclusion, and the extent to which she has succumbed to the patriarchal society she is confined to. Even in her own home, Elpida is silenced, trapped in a loveless marriage, with absolutely no control over anything. As Hadjikyriacou’s work analyzes the history of the expected roles for both men and women in Greece and Cyprus, Hadjikyriacou states: “Thus men, always seemed to identify with the role of the ‘master-provider’ and women with the subordinate role of ‘wives-mothers’” (21). This is also evident within Pause, as Costas goes to drastic lengths to prove himself as a “provider,” to maintain his domineering control over his wife. This is demonstrated in the heartbreaking scene in which Costas sells Elpida’s car without her consent. While Elpida is devastated over the loss of her only physical source of “freedom,” Costas relays the reality that they needed to sell her car in order to survive financially. By depicting the Greek notion of a male “provider” and the subordinate role of a woman as a “wife/mother” in 2019, Mishiali demonstrates how these unequal roles continue to remain current, due to their firmly dug roots.
While Mishiali’s overall creation of Pause is quite depressing, there are hints of humor laced throughout the film. As Elpida suffers displeasing symptoms of menopause, she also begins to investigate her deeper, darker, and most intimate dreams/desires. Despite being trapped, hints of Elpida’s resilient nature repeatedly attempts to break through- even if her efforts appear small. Though Mishiali’s choice to convey menopause - something that only occurs to women - as Elpida’s wake-up call may be questioned, it ultimately serves as the necessary wake-up call Elpida needs to examine her life and discover her identity before it is too late.
A Reversal of Roles
Created in a straightforward and realistic style, Nikos Labot’s film Her Job tells the story of a 37-year-old housewife named Panayiota, and her life-altering event of getting a job for the very first time. In order to fully understand the significance of what a job means for Panayiota, Labot sets up the very first scene in the small apartment Panayiota lives in with her husband, and two children. The very first scene depicts Panayiota fiercely vacuuming the carpet; her day then unfolds into a series of house chores: from cooking, cleaning, setting up dinner, to waiting on her husband Kostas, Panayiota’s role is quite reminiscent of a servant in her own home. Panayiota’s seemingly quiet and humble life directly parallels to the general expectations of a Greek family household in the mid 1960’s.
In Masculinity and Gender in Greek Cinema Achilleas Hadjikyriacou explains: “A happy family was a way for both husband and wife to acquire pride, honour and self-esteem. A man should constantly prove his manliness by combining characteristics such as courage, a quick temper and sexual potency in his role as a husband-father-provider” (13). Thus, while the representation of a stiff relationship between Panayiota and her husband may appear quite common, the crux of the film, is the reality that this family is suffering from the Greek financial crisis and is in desperate need of money. As Kostas has lost his job, when a neighbor informs Panayiota about a potential job opportunity at a new shopping mall, Panayiota immediately jumps on the opportunity. Equipped with absolutely no previous job experience and an (incredibly) limited level of education, Panayiota interviews for the position, and is hired as a full-time cleaner.
Employed for the very first time with a paid position, Panayiota not only exhibits a reversal of typical gender role expectations, however, she also embarks on a personal journey of self-discovery. While the job does not require much beyond being able to mop, scrub, and vacuum the floors with an industrial vacuum, the job is the only source of “freedom” Panayiota has access to. The job provides a physical space where Panayiota can step away from being a mother and wife for a few hours of the day, and also allows her to mentally escape some of the great stressors she faces at home-whether it’s her difficult husband or troublesome children. Slowly, Panayiota begins to discover the beauty of independence, beautifully captivated when she learns how to drive for the very first time and discovers how to use an ATM machine for the very first time. Though Panayiota hardly speaks throughout the majority of the film, her facial expressions are incredibly moving, and express the multitude of feelings she experiences simultaneously.
Unfortunately, not all can be perfect for our rising main character, as she unwittingly falls victim to one of many consequences of the financial crisis that has plagued Greece. In 2008, after the financial crisis truly devastated Greece’s economy, much of the population fell victim to unemployment, resulting in a quarter of the population to be unemployed. For those who were fortunate to keep their job or find part-time work, the consequences of the financial crisis still proved to be inescapable. As Anthee Carassava states in her 2018 article “Greeks stuck in lousy, part-time jobs as government claims success,” Carassava notes: “In the startling statistics released this week, five in 10 Greek workers are owed an average of six paychecks by exploitative employers already paying part-time workers less than €500 a month.” To make matters worse, the difference in gender gap and economic prosperity proves to be even more troubling as Carassava states: “Women, meantime, receive 50 percent less than the already appalling rates, potentially giving Greece one of the biggest gender pay gaps worldwide.” Thus, not only are the majority of Greek workers overworked and underpaid, but there is even the additional outrageous inequality of payment due to gender. Her Job excels in its entirely realistic and identifiable issues of the financial Greek crisis and is easily relatable to those who live in Greece, still dealing with the stressors and major consequences of the financial crisis. Ultimately, Panayiota’s life altering event of getting a job is not about the actual job, however it is more about the possibilities, the freedom, and the significance of what a job can mean to a person-specifically a woman.
Crisis Upon Crisis
As a culmination of the typical representation of a Greek patriarchal society, and the exhibition of the reversal of gender roles discussed in the previous two sections, comes Iakovos Panagopoulos’ 2019 short film Flickering Souls Set Alight. The film centers on the life altering event of the unexpected and harrowing disease, Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), that threatens to break a family apart. The film revolves around three main characters: Aris-a once able, capable, competent man who is now suffering from ALS, hooked up to breathing machines, riddled with bedsores, and incapable of moving/speaking; Persephone, (Aris’ wife) and also a mother, who now finds herself in charge of the household, financial matters, and caring for her family; and their daughter, a teenager who is struggling to understand the unfair difficulties that have manifested into her life. Flickering Souls Set Alight expertly captures the underlying notion of the deep roots of patriarchy, simply through Persephone’s daily activity. Even though Persephone’s husband is completely bedridden, is unable to breathe on his own, let alone speak-Persephone maintains the loyal wife/mother role, planning her day around the needs of her sick husband. From tending to his sores, calculating his medicine dosages, washing the bed sheets, and so forth-Persephone’s every task correlates to either taking care of Aris, or her daughter. Populated throughout the film are striking flash backs when Aris resumes to his previous state before succumbing to ALS; for instance, at one point during the film, Aris sits up, removes his respirator, and gets out of bed. At first, the sudden movement is especially jarring, and causes the audience to wonder if perhaps Aris is perfectly healthy after all. However, another interpretation of these rare moments of action may also serve to convey Aris’ deep desire to reclaim his position as the “father/husband/provider” within his family.
The duality of the flash back's implications point toward the patriarchal composition in Greek/Cypriote society. In Peregrine Horden and Nicholas Purcell’s chapter “‘I Also Have A Moustache’: Anthropology and Mediterranean Unity,” the authors depict the ideal Greek man as being clever, dignified, and guileful. The authors explain: “Nonetheless, he remains a man of honour. He displays manliness, andrismos. He is barbatos, well endowed with testicles…Only in old age are these demands relaxed. The man who has handed over control of affairs to his eldest son will maintain a quiet dignity” (490). Whatever the motives for Aris’ flash backs, one thing remains clear: patriarchy and male dominance continues to remain especially critical within the Greek world.
The unexpected disease is not the worst worry for the characters of this film; matters exceptionally worsen for this family when Persephone receives notice that the electricity will be shut off. Though not said aloud, the audience can infer the cruel reality that without electricity, Aris will be unable to breathe, and will quickly die. Faced with limited options, Persephone finds herself in an incredibly limited place, as she has no money, no job, and hardly any income coming in. Thus, Flickering Souls Set Alight then transitions into a film that centers upon another horrific consequence of the financial crisis: the struggle and hardships the sick/dying face due to the financial crisis. According to BBC News, healthcare is one of the public services that has been hit hardest by the crisis, as an estimated 800,000 Greeks are without medical access due to a lack of insurance or poverty (Lucy Rodgers and Nassos Stylianou). To further exhibit the constraint and limitations of the most vulnerable (the sick/dying), Flickering Souls Set Alight is purposely shot in a specific camera frame, one that represents a tight square-box. Completely at a loss as to what to do to save her husband, Persephone sits down in front of the camera, and begins speaking directly to the audience. Though still in character, Persephone provides her backstory to the world, explaining how she has arrived at this very place in time, trapped in this situation. Her narrative is incredibly moving to watch, as it draws the audience straight into her cruel and unjust world. By using this specific technique Panagopoulos utilizes the power of film to shed light on the most vulnerable and susceptible to the consequences of the Greek financial crisis: the women, the youth, and the sick. The creation of this film provides a platform for Greek people to share their inescapable, yet very real struggle with the world. Most significantly however, is the fact that it is a woman who takes the center stage, to reveal the grim reality for so many Greek people.
Why 2019?
Ultimately, the most vital question that remains, is why are these specific types of Greek films being released now in 2019? While there is no straight answer, perhaps one reason, is that the financial crisis has wreaked such complex and long-lasting consequences, which have resulted in the necessity to convey the struggles of these various class structures through film. Through the utilization and creation of film, the three filmmakers discussed within this blog are able to reach audiences across the world through their own unique film. In 2019, with all the advances our world experiences on a daily basis, perhaps it is finally time for women to tell their own story; to share their struggles; to exemplify their life-altering event; and to demonstrate their true inner strength and own personal narrative on their own terms.
Patriarchal Roots
Written and directed by Toni Mishiali, Pause examines the way a domesticated housewife named Elpida, begins to analyze her self-identity after experiencing the medical onset of menopause. The film’s opening scene takes places in a medical doctor’s office, featuring Elpida whose legs are spread wide open with the help of stirrups. After a typical pelvic examination, a doctor then begins to rattle off an impossible list of symptoms, only to finally conclude that in short, Elpida has “nothing to worry about” as her prognosis is simply the onset of menopause. The doctor’s simple prognosis proves to be quite far-fetched however, as Elpida begins to suffer not only physically from the uncomfortable symptoms, but also mentally, as her imagination becomes awakened for the very first time.
After visiting the doctor’s office, Elpida returns home, to attend to the mundane activities of her life: the moment Elpida goes home, she immediately must tend to her husband’s (Costas) every need. The couple resides in a modest apartment, and the only interaction between the two, occurs over a typical silent dinner, or whenever Elpida must fetch something for her domineering husband. Though the relationship between the two is obviously strained and unequal, the representation of their assigned gender roles is especially reminiscent of the antiquated patriarchal expectations for both genders in Cyprus. Achilleas Hadjikyriacou, a Scientific Officer at the Research Promotion Foundation in Cyprus, and author of Masculinity and Gender in Greek Cinema, explains: “The description of Greek culture as a male-dominated phenomenon left women in the position of being described merely as ‘mute objects’” (21). As cultural and societal expectations for Greek men have revolved around the notion of being domineering and superior, women have thus suffered the consequence of falling into the role of the inferior and have been locked into a world of silence. This phenomenon is brilliantly conveyed throughout Pause and is especially evident during one specific scene of the film: after Costas and Elpida have a typical soundless dinner at home, the two retreat to their respective place in their living room. Costas sits in front of the television to view his sports program, turning up the volume as loud as he desires; Elpida on the other hand, retreats to her silent corner of the room, where she must watch her desired nature program via headphones. The scene captures Elpida’s complete seclusion, and the extent to which she has succumbed to the patriarchal society she is confined to. Even in her own home, Elpida is silenced, trapped in a loveless marriage, with absolutely no control over anything. As Hadjikyriacou’s work analyzes the history of the expected roles for both men and women in Greece and Cyprus, Hadjikyriacou states: “Thus men, always seemed to identify with the role of the ‘master-provider’ and women with the subordinate role of ‘wives-mothers’” (21). This is also evident within Pause, as Costas goes to drastic lengths to prove himself as a “provider,” to maintain his domineering control over his wife. This is demonstrated in the heartbreaking scene in which Costas sells Elpida’s car without her consent. While Elpida is devastated over the loss of her only physical source of “freedom,” Costas relays the reality that they needed to sell her car in order to survive financially. By depicting the Greek notion of a male “provider” and the subordinate role of a woman as a “wife/mother” in 2019, Mishiali demonstrates how these unequal roles continue to remain current, due to their firmly dug roots.
While Mishiali’s overall creation of Pause is quite depressing, there are hints of humor laced throughout the film. As Elpida suffers displeasing symptoms of menopause, she also begins to investigate her deeper, darker, and most intimate dreams/desires. Despite being trapped, hints of Elpida’s resilient nature repeatedly attempts to break through- even if her efforts appear small. Though Mishiali’s choice to convey menopause - something that only occurs to women - as Elpida’s wake-up call may be questioned, it ultimately serves as the necessary wake-up call Elpida needs to examine her life and discover her identity before it is too late.
A Reversal of Roles
Created in a straightforward and realistic style, Nikos Labot’s film Her Job tells the story of a 37-year-old housewife named Panayiota, and her life-altering event of getting a job for the very first time. In order to fully understand the significance of what a job means for Panayiota, Labot sets up the very first scene in the small apartment Panayiota lives in with her husband, and two children. The very first scene depicts Panayiota fiercely vacuuming the carpet; her day then unfolds into a series of house chores: from cooking, cleaning, setting up dinner, to waiting on her husband Kostas, Panayiota’s role is quite reminiscent of a servant in her own home. Panayiota’s seemingly quiet and humble life directly parallels to the general expectations of a Greek family household in the mid 1960’s.
In Masculinity and Gender in Greek Cinema Achilleas Hadjikyriacou explains: “A happy family was a way for both husband and wife to acquire pride, honour and self-esteem. A man should constantly prove his manliness by combining characteristics such as courage, a quick temper and sexual potency in his role as a husband-father-provider” (13). Thus, while the representation of a stiff relationship between Panayiota and her husband may appear quite common, the crux of the film, is the reality that this family is suffering from the Greek financial crisis and is in desperate need of money. As Kostas has lost his job, when a neighbor informs Panayiota about a potential job opportunity at a new shopping mall, Panayiota immediately jumps on the opportunity. Equipped with absolutely no previous job experience and an (incredibly) limited level of education, Panayiota interviews for the position, and is hired as a full-time cleaner.
Employed for the very first time with a paid position, Panayiota not only exhibits a reversal of typical gender role expectations, however, she also embarks on a personal journey of self-discovery. While the job does not require much beyond being able to mop, scrub, and vacuum the floors with an industrial vacuum, the job is the only source of “freedom” Panayiota has access to. The job provides a physical space where Panayiota can step away from being a mother and wife for a few hours of the day, and also allows her to mentally escape some of the great stressors she faces at home-whether it’s her difficult husband or troublesome children. Slowly, Panayiota begins to discover the beauty of independence, beautifully captivated when she learns how to drive for the very first time and discovers how to use an ATM machine for the very first time. Though Panayiota hardly speaks throughout the majority of the film, her facial expressions are incredibly moving, and express the multitude of feelings she experiences simultaneously.
Unfortunately, not all can be perfect for our rising main character, as she unwittingly falls victim to one of many consequences of the financial crisis that has plagued Greece. In 2008, after the financial crisis truly devastated Greece’s economy, much of the population fell victim to unemployment, resulting in a quarter of the population to be unemployed. For those who were fortunate to keep their job or find part-time work, the consequences of the financial crisis still proved to be inescapable. As Anthee Carassava states in her 2018 article “Greeks stuck in lousy, part-time jobs as government claims success,” Carassava notes: “In the startling statistics released this week, five in 10 Greek workers are owed an average of six paychecks by exploitative employers already paying part-time workers less than €500 a month.” To make matters worse, the difference in gender gap and economic prosperity proves to be even more troubling as Carassava states: “Women, meantime, receive 50 percent less than the already appalling rates, potentially giving Greece one of the biggest gender pay gaps worldwide.” Thus, not only are the majority of Greek workers overworked and underpaid, but there is even the additional outrageous inequality of payment due to gender. Her Job excels in its entirely realistic and identifiable issues of the financial Greek crisis and is easily relatable to those who live in Greece, still dealing with the stressors and major consequences of the financial crisis. Ultimately, Panayiota’s life altering event of getting a job is not about the actual job, however it is more about the possibilities, the freedom, and the significance of what a job can mean to a person-specifically a woman.
Crisis Upon Crisis
As a culmination of the typical representation of a Greek patriarchal society, and the exhibition of the reversal of gender roles discussed in the previous two sections, comes Iakovos Panagopoulos’ 2019 short film Flickering Souls Set Alight. The film centers on the life altering event of the unexpected and harrowing disease, Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), that threatens to break a family apart. The film revolves around three main characters: Aris-a once able, capable, competent man who is now suffering from ALS, hooked up to breathing machines, riddled with bedsores, and incapable of moving/speaking; Persephone, (Aris’ wife) and also a mother, who now finds herself in charge of the household, financial matters, and caring for her family; and their daughter, a teenager who is struggling to understand the unfair difficulties that have manifested into her life. Flickering Souls Set Alight expertly captures the underlying notion of the deep roots of patriarchy, simply through Persephone’s daily activity. Even though Persephone’s husband is completely bedridden, is unable to breathe on his own, let alone speak-Persephone maintains the loyal wife/mother role, planning her day around the needs of her sick husband. From tending to his sores, calculating his medicine dosages, washing the bed sheets, and so forth-Persephone’s every task correlates to either taking care of Aris, or her daughter. Populated throughout the film are striking flash backs when Aris resumes to his previous state before succumbing to ALS; for instance, at one point during the film, Aris sits up, removes his respirator, and gets out of bed. At first, the sudden movement is especially jarring, and causes the audience to wonder if perhaps Aris is perfectly healthy after all. However, another interpretation of these rare moments of action may also serve to convey Aris’ deep desire to reclaim his position as the “father/husband/provider” within his family.
The duality of the flash back's implications point toward the patriarchal composition in Greek/Cypriote society. In Peregrine Horden and Nicholas Purcell’s chapter “‘I Also Have A Moustache’: Anthropology and Mediterranean Unity,” the authors depict the ideal Greek man as being clever, dignified, and guileful. The authors explain: “Nonetheless, he remains a man of honour. He displays manliness, andrismos. He is barbatos, well endowed with testicles…Only in old age are these demands relaxed. The man who has handed over control of affairs to his eldest son will maintain a quiet dignity” (490). Whatever the motives for Aris’ flash backs, one thing remains clear: patriarchy and male dominance continues to remain especially critical within the Greek world.
The unexpected disease is not the worst worry for the characters of this film; matters exceptionally worsen for this family when Persephone receives notice that the electricity will be shut off. Though not said aloud, the audience can infer the cruel reality that without electricity, Aris will be unable to breathe, and will quickly die. Faced with limited options, Persephone finds herself in an incredibly limited place, as she has no money, no job, and hardly any income coming in. Thus, Flickering Souls Set Alight then transitions into a film that centers upon another horrific consequence of the financial crisis: the struggle and hardships the sick/dying face due to the financial crisis. According to BBC News, healthcare is one of the public services that has been hit hardest by the crisis, as an estimated 800,000 Greeks are without medical access due to a lack of insurance or poverty (Lucy Rodgers and Nassos Stylianou). To further exhibit the constraint and limitations of the most vulnerable (the sick/dying), Flickering Souls Set Alight is purposely shot in a specific camera frame, one that represents a tight square-box. Completely at a loss as to what to do to save her husband, Persephone sits down in front of the camera, and begins speaking directly to the audience. Though still in character, Persephone provides her backstory to the world, explaining how she has arrived at this very place in time, trapped in this situation. Her narrative is incredibly moving to watch, as it draws the audience straight into her cruel and unjust world. By using this specific technique Panagopoulos utilizes the power of film to shed light on the most vulnerable and susceptible to the consequences of the Greek financial crisis: the women, the youth, and the sick. The creation of this film provides a platform for Greek people to share their inescapable, yet very real struggle with the world. Most significantly however, is the fact that it is a woman who takes the center stage, to reveal the grim reality for so many Greek people.
Why 2019?
Ultimately, the most vital question that remains, is why are these specific types of Greek films being released now in 2019? While there is no straight answer, perhaps one reason, is that the financial crisis has wreaked such complex and long-lasting consequences, which have resulted in the necessity to convey the struggles of these various class structures through film. Through the utilization and creation of film, the three filmmakers discussed within this blog are able to reach audiences across the world through their own unique film. In 2019, with all the advances our world experiences on a daily basis, perhaps it is finally time for women to tell their own story; to share their struggles; to exemplify their life-altering event; and to demonstrate their true inner strength and own personal narrative on their own terms.