American Mary
Directed by Jen & Sylvia Soska
I’ve always wanted my tongue split.
Since a young age, I’ve been fascinated with body modification. With a father who is a body piercer, it’s hardly surprising. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all. From multiple facial piercings (though currently a more conservative 2 remain) to tattoos, I’d always been interested in the more extreme modifications embraced by the somewhat underground community. A number of years ago I had a magnetic implant inserted into the ring finger of my left hand so I’m a rather less powerful Magneto (but I can pick up paperclips with ease).
Understandably, American Mary sounded to be right up my street. A female directed horror that explores the body modification community?! Sign me up.
Katharine Isabelle plays the titular ‘Mary’, a medical student who makes extra cash performing extreme procedures for body mod enthusiasts.
It’s a sensible plan. With many students struggling financially, working alongside study is commonplace – with many publications in recent years highlighting the increasing number of young women turning to sex work to make ends meet through their studies. Whilst this is Mary’s initial plan, she soon finds a more lucrative and niche gap in the market. One her particular skills are altogether ideally placed to fill.
Anyone familiar with the body modification community is likely to be aware of the recent changes in legislation that has effectively driven a number of services underground, for fear of criminal repercussions (and if you’re not, a quick google search of Dr Evil Body Modification is likely to tell you all you need to know). It’s opened an interesting debate on informed consent and autonomy to make choices to modify your own body, but a lot of the criticism of ‘unregulated’ body modifications – that is, in the UK at least – is the lack of medical licence.
This isn’t an issue for our piercing-positive protagonist, and she certainly has the medial know how to perform the procedures she does.
American Mary introduces the audience to her diverse clientele – many of whom are portrayed by real members of the community who have undergone their own modifications procedures – from tongue splitting to sub-dermal implants.
The most compelling patient we meet however is soft spoken Beatress – a living, breathing (albeit intensely surgically enhanced) caricature of Betty Boop. Her cartoonish features and retro style are initially alarming, but you can’t help but be charmed by Beatress’s naive positivity and friendly nature. Sure, you may want to do a double take – but who is she harming?
Beatress introduces Mary to her first real client – a Barbie like woman, who despite her overly sexualised appearance, wants nothing more than to desexualise herself completely and permanently. It’s an interesting concept that speaks volumes about not judging a book by its cover.
As Mary finds herself falling deeper into the tangled web of back-street surgery, we wonder how far Mary will go to achieve her desires.
American Mary has definite feminist themes prominent from the get go, with Mary taking control of her life and autonomy seemingly a direct parallel to the choices of her clients.
Given the content, I am probably quite biased, but overall I think the film looks great. Whilst it feels fairly low budget at times, it doesn’t particularly detract, and it’s a compelling watch even if the story doesn’t feel as fully fleshed as it could.
Whilst the male surgeons are depicted as egotistical and unfeeling, Mary has a developed bedside manner and puts her clients at ease with a personal stake that feels intensely reassuring.
There are some deep concepts played with under the flashy, at times grotesque imagery used in American Mary and I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. Giving voice to the weirdo’s shunned by society, the Soska sisters have created something both visually appealing and meaningful.
And whilst I may not be able to get a tongue split done legally in the UK at present, I know if I could I’d be more than happy for Mary to be my doctor.
