Lick The Star isn’t the feminist film we asked for, but it’s the feminist film we have

by Elise Schumacher

“Everything changes,
Nothing changes.
The tables turn,
And life goes on.”

Amongst the mildly homophobic slurs and almost-racist themes explored in Sofia Coppola’s first short film, in conjunction with the eye-roll-inducing and conventional genre stereotypes seen in every coming-of-age film ever, Lick The Star has the potential to be a staple in teen feminist cinema, and here’s why.

Let me begin by presenting you with a wild concept: I am a gay, female film student, a passionate equal-rights activist, and a sucker for literally any underlying feminist themes in any form of media. How original, right? Hear me out, though. This film is important, not because it encourages young women to poison their male counterparts in a twisted simulation of V.C Andrew’s incest-ridden gothic novel Flowers In The Attic (1979). Instead, it encourages girls to not tolerate sexual harassment or unwanted male gaze. Chloe, our cliche popular girl is the human embodiment of the intersection between Regina George Avenue, Lux Lisbon Street, and Betty Rizzo Drive; equal parts vengeful, mysterious, and carefree. After what is implied to be a period of being hassled by the boys at her school, she devises a plan (can I say shittily? Is that a word?) amateurishly entitled “Lick The Star,” which is supposed to be a palindrome for “Kill The Rats.” In true Flowers In The Attic style, Chloe and her clique (because what is a cool girl without a clique?) plot to poison the boys who prey upon them, but just enough to weaken them and make them ill.

Is it the most revolutionary plan in the history of feminism? No. But there is a degree of power and badass-ery in a bunch of pre-teens putting an end to unwelcome advances from the boys in their class.

Moreover, the film alludes to the bullying trope seen across teen cinema for decades, specifically, the effects of bullying and the very real issue of suicide amongst young people. However, there is a sense of romanticised eeriness about the scene in which Chloe attempts suicide. The overbearing punk rock feels juxtaposed with the intimate visuals, until you listen carefully the lyrics:

“Feels so good not to be me,
Even in the stores, not my scene,
Not being me feels so good,
If I was a cake, I’d be Angels Food,
So sweet, so soft, so light”

Married with the Vanitas symbols of flower petals and candles to bear reminders of fragility and mortality, along with her white linen dress in contrast with Chloe’s signature vampy lip, the song choice seems kinda perfect to send off our angsty cool girl. This scene is so well-rounded and aesthetically tasteful, demanding to be watched over and over. It defies the generic Hollywood fragile-girl suicide too, unlike Coppola’s later work in The Virgin Suicides (1999), where the air of mystery around the Lisbon girls is heavily present throughout. The structural elements of this scene do Chloe’s rebellious character justice despite the time constraints of short films, and that really must be applauded.

Which brings me to my biggest gripe with this film. I can look past the recurring homophobic remarks. I can forgive the awful cliches. I can pardon the bad acting. But what I cannot excuse is the fact that the potential of a successful feature film was squeezed into the mould of a short film and cooked at a temperature too low to be well-done. There was so much room for character development and for the progression of the issues that are raised throughout the plot, such as inherent racism and sexual harassment, as well as the overarching issue of young girls literally poisoning their classmates with arsenic, and yet all of these concepts seem half-baked due to the time restraints of this type of cinema. Additionally, Coppola’s tendency to linger on aesthetics often misses the essence of the narrative. The plot doesn’t run parallel to the film’s 14-minute bridle and that’s a real shame when you consider how beneficial this film could have been to a young female audience.

I want to love this film, I really do, but it lacks integral growth that I simply couldn’t uncover beneath the coils of clashing themes and subplots. In spite of this, the short basically epitomises teen angst to an almost meme-able extent, with the 16mm black and white 90s punk aesthetic and all, and that in itself is an effort worth a watch.