Written by: Chloe Goodin
When I first finished watching Manadrome (2023), I was slightly concerned. First, because I had just finished a dream-like thriller that displays the mind of a fragile young man escaping fatherhood by turning to an all male cult of celibacy, and second, because my father, the prominent and trusted male feminist who has helped to grow my own feminist ideologies, was the one to show it to me.
Image from The Hollywood Reporter
Manadrome tells the story of Ralphie (Jessie Eisenberg), a financially and emotionally insecure young man expecting a child with his girlfriend Sal (Odessa Young). Through Ralphie’s repressed sexuality, obsession with the gym and his physical image and subsequent body dysmorphia, and his feelings of inadequacies as the ‘head of household’, he turns to a fraternity of men he meets through members of his gym. This fraternity provides him with a home, financial support, and even a father– the group leader whom all the members refer to as Dad Dan (Adrien Brody). Through Ralphie’s obsession with the demonstrations of ‘real manhood’ provided to him by Dad Dan and the rest of the fraternity members ( owning guns, releasing feelings of frustration towards their female partners, leaving their families when they are disrespected, practicing celibacy, etc.), Ralphie descends into complete madness as he succumbs to his own sexual fears, masculine shortcomings, childhood traumas, and overall social placements as a white man.
I found myself teetering between the two opinions in my head. On the one hand, I found the story of a young man descending into madness under the pressure of modern day toxic masculinity and white male straighthood to be fascinating. But on the other hand, I couldn’t help but wonder: is this really a story we need to be telling? In a world run by and already promoting this toxicity in favor of the white man, was it necessary to depict the struggles of this lifestyle and its effect on the men who benefit the most from it?
Image from Deadline
This movie was undoubtedly visually incredible; perfectly capturing the feelings of isolation, madness, rage, and repression that drives Ralphie to his breakdown. However, upon first viewing, it can be difficult to truly feel any empathy for his character as a young woman: why should I feel bad for a character whose demise is on behalf of his acceptance and abuse of his own social power? Is anyone to blame but himself? My questions were further amplified when I learned that Manadrome was directed by a white gay man in response to one of his own experiences with hate crime in an uber.
I think this interview with director John Tengrove perfectly sums up what changed my opinion on this movie. Tengrove explains that one of the main artistic goals of this movie is to mobilize men to become activists through their understanding of the ways in which toxic masculinity benefits no one and drives them to become the main perpetrators in the social oppressions that create these villainous positions. The main issue this movie hopes to address is the underlying and often subconscious acceptance of the roles the men in this movie take on and in our world take on but are not aware of enough to reject or dismantle.
I think this interview with director John Tengrove perfectly sums up what changed my opinion on this movie. As a gay man in America, John Tengrove describes the ways in which he has navigated the tight spaces between the toxic, cisgendered, white male outlets to find the places where male emotion can be taught about and mobilized to create change for a more equal and educated society. I definitely encourage two watches of Manadrome: one for the complete shock value of modern day masculinity, and one for a greater understanding of the way toxic masculinity affects all of us and can only be dismantled through support and education.
Image from the Hollywood Reporter