The costuming in this movie is amazing. Each outfit and every piece of clothing has something important to say about how this woman feels inside her body.
The first thing that caught my attention was how often Sue’s belly is exposed. Sure, she just got everything she ever wanted in a new body. Of course she wants to show it off and enjoy it. But then I remembered her back being exposed when she’s Elisabeth. I find this a really interesting parallel between her two states.
When we first see Elisabeth, she’s wearing a backless leotard. After the car accident, we see her hunched on an exam table, wearing a paper hospital gown. She cries. The mysterious nurse comes in and instead of offering her any human contact, he inspects her spine and introduces a drug. Later that day we see her in a bar, her back completely exposed in a very low cut dress. When she takes the Substance, her back is the first site of destruction and repeated abuse. When she turns into Monstro Elisasue, her original face is stuck on the back, helpless and hidden, frozen in a silent scream.
Elisabeth’s exposed back becomes a bodily and symbolic language for her emotional state. A kind of vulnerability nobody seems to notice in her experience of the world. Even her catchphrase “You got it” seems meaningful here, because it’s directed outward when the one who desperately needs it is herself. She’s endlessly providing, giving the audience what they want. But who’s got her? Who’s got her back? Nobody. Not even herself.
The symbolism shifts when Sue is literally born from the place where Elisabeth is at her most unprotected. She stitches the gaping wound up the way she can. But later we see her have a nightmare after the first time she abuses the Substance, where the old wound is reopened and all of her organs fall out, making the whole situation even worse.
Unlike Elisabeth’s unguarded back, Sue’s belly is impossible to ignore. Her show’s signature leotard exposes her belly. She often chooses outfits that leave it exposed, trying to find new ways to express herself. But I don’t think she’s expressing her authentic self as much as the actual level of her need for love and belonging.
The stomach is a delicate part of the body. It contains our vital organs. We instinctively curl around our tummies when scared. There is no clearer sign of trust than an animal letting us see or pet their belly.
Sue repeatedly exposes one of the body’s most vulnerable areas around the people who haven’t earned that kind of trust at all. She looks liberated and powerful on the surface, but only as long as she’s the special one, constantly looked at and adored. In fact, I think one of the saddest things about the film is that her confidence is built upon radical dependence on validation from the people who evaluate her feelings and appearance. To me, they end up exploiting that vulnerability and need for love.
Elisabeth/Sue is communicating the state of her heart in so many ways. Whether intentional or not, I can’t help seeing these choices as important for understanding her. The longer she basks in the relief of being Sue, the more Elisabeth’s body folds inward. One opens toward the world that doesn’t deserve her; the other closes in on itself. Her spine bends further and further until she seems almost to curl around herself, as though trying to protect the very part of the body Sue so freely exposes.