The Fits: An Allegory for a Distinctly Feminine Metamorphosis
Adolescence is a time of transition. Childhood slowly recoils in a cocoon and adulthood looms, almost threatening the child away. In Anna Rose Holmer’s The Fits, it is a transition so severe that it’s hard to know just what is about to emerge out of the cocoon and just what of the child will remain. The Fits is not only an allegorical poem about coming-of-age, but also a tale of becoming-a-woman. In the film, as in life, every girl goes through their own version of “the fits” to take their first step into adulthood (or more accurately, womanhood) seemingly unscathed, but forever changed.
From the perspective of Toni (Royalty Hightower), the film tirelessly juxtaposes the presence and gestures of boys and those of girls. Even Toni’s full name, Latonia, symbolizes her state of limbo between boyhood and girlhood. While “tomboy” Toni is partaking more actively in the boys’ world–wearing a sports bra, practicing boxing, training with her brother, surrounded by sweaty boys who eat pizza out of the box like hyenas–she’s intrigued by the girls’, perpetually lured into her nature as Latonia.
The world of girls is revealed evocatively. As Toni tests her feminine intuition, she observes an almost tribal dance-off among the girls–a sight she finds unsettling. The girls are fiercely competitive and daring, intimidating forces to be reckoned with. Toni drags her feet in her grey hoodie, while she’s practically showered by an army of bouncing girls explosive with loud shrieks and flashy outfits, boisterous laughter and chatter. Their abundant femininity is an onslaught.
The unique metamorphosis of girls becoming young women is brilliantly represented by an apparently contagious disease spreading like wildfire among a group of female dancers, who practice a powerful dance routine across the hall from an all-male, testosterone-pumping, tellingly disease-free boxing gym. The appearance of “the fits” evokes mass psychogenic illnesses where people mirror each other’s symptoms in a group. Numerous dance-off scenes where dancers mirror and outdo each other’s performance pepper the film to support such interpretation and help us make sense of the epidemic.
Beyond the fascinating connection between a psychogenic illness and girls growing into femininity, I can’t help but see the parallels between the seizures and the experience of menstruation that dominates the mood and behavior of girls in this age group.
When the seizures begin among the girls, it is clear that it’s an inevitable, distinctly feminine event that sets the boys and girls farther apart. Right after the first incidence of “the fits,” Toni’s brother warns her to not be like the girl who had the seizure: “she’s the craziest.” Then he goes on to boast about busting another athlete’s nose, showing off his opponent’s blood on a white towel, echoing the menstrual blood.
If the mysterious seizure symbolizes the sufferer’s inevitable transformation into womanhood, then the image of the bloody towel and the male warning that follows it suggest “the fits” is a metaphor for menstruation – an event traditionally associated with fear, shock and embarrassment. The male equivalent to this transformation is expressed as pride and achievement as evidenced by drawing of blood from an opponent. The interplay of what it’s like to be a girl as opposed to a boy is revealing.
As Toni nears her own version of “the fits,” she goes through other tribal rituals. She receives a tattoo from other girls, she finds her hands and nails smeared or painted with glittery nail polish, and she pierces her ears—another bloody tradition. These signs of transformation put more and more distance between Toni and her brother and the boys in general. One of them says in passing: “you’re one of them now.”
The scene on the bridge shows this shift beautifully. Toni runs up the stairs of a bridge where she often trains with her brother, but now she is alone. Her boxing moves soon give way to her dance routine, accompanied by the ritualistic sound of girls’ rhythmic clapping. Her familiar masculine way of being dissolves into an equally fierce but conversely feminine new persona. Her satisfied smile hints at where Toni feels she now belongs.
As Toni begins to feel more and more isolated from the other girls and weighed down by the imminence of “the fits,” her seizure-immune masculine side protests and resists. Her nail vanish chips away, her ears get infected, and she bounces basketballs off the wall and seeks solace in a punching bag. But by now she’s removed enough from the world of the boys that she can only watch them from afar. Much like the anticipation of menstruation among girls at this age, she begins to not only dread but also long for “the fits,” which she now realizes will be her key to finally and truly belong to her own tribe.
Once Toni also crosses that threshold into womanhood to the lyrics, “Must we choose to be slaves to gravity? Shouldn’t we be light, shouldn’t we be treasure,” the girls dressed in their sparkling costumes perform their dance routine with pride. They dance in all the major locations of the film as one body, one tribe, and one pride. Once “the fits” are behind them, and their femininity is no longer a source of fear but a source of joy, the girls glow with unprecedented power and light.
— This article was published in Brattle Theatre Film Notes on April 9, 2018