Grotesque Duality
A non-review of Belle (2021)
11/2/20237 min read


A virtual Bell in a virtual world beside a virtual Bell in a virtual world.
A few nights ago I went to the movie theatre with some friends. An unremarkable statement by any common measure, and even given the fact that this was a virtual theatre in VRChat, not particularly notable. It is a normal activity in VR, strikingly similar in experience to meatspace movie-going yet conferring benefits beyond it.
The subject of our viewing was Belle (2021), which very appropriately revolves around a virtual reality experience. At just over two hours in run time, it came as an acknowledged shock that all of us sat through it – aside from occasional jovial commentary – uninterrupted. There is something magnificent in the ability to sit on a couch with friends and do this, especially when given constraints of time, geography, economics, or health, which make physically visiting one another for such a outwardly mundane occasion impractical. There is a sense of presence very difficult to describe to those doubtful of it, but for those of us that embrace it, there is an intense awareness that the person sitting next to us is in fact right there, and not hundreds or thousands of miles away. For some of us this extends to an intrinsic sense by our bodies of the existence of another within arms reach. The unquestioning certainty of this fact greatly affects the viewing, positively influencing the shared experience and retention of the memory of it.
I won’t re-hash the full plot as there are plenty of other places to read that, assuming you’re not already familiar with it. The film itself is beautiful, and while we all enjoyed it, there were some reservations about the representation of virtual reality which ran counter to our own beliefs. While I recognize that virtual reality serves here merely as a narrative device – it could just as readily been a dream state, or supernatural phenomenon - it unfortunately contributes to an end product that is a bit too superficial in its take on identity. It’s difficult to hold this against the film overall, since despite how much of it takes place in VR, that isn’t really what the story is about, however, it is what interests us here!
Spoilers Ahead
Much of the film takes place in the virtual world of “U,” populated by users whose avatars are known as “AS.” According to U’s own own promotional material, we are told that “U is another reality. AS is another you.” So within some of the earliest words of the film it has been established that U is not an unreality, or a fake reality, but simply another reality. Yet immediately after this, we run into a bit of trouble as we are told that “You can't start over in reality, but you can start over in U.”
If U is another reality, what is the distinction here from “reality?” This confusion permeates the film, as the characters and viewer must both accept the goings-on in U as real and valid, while the plot and general audience sentiment requires a distinction between “real” and “unreal,” rather than simply “different.” Life in a virtual world is still a life, but fully embracing this and rejecting VR as nothing more than a simulacrum of “reality” is a step too far. Again, this isn’t unexpected, simply disappointing, for it fails to subvert the tired theme of escapism so often found in virtual reality narratives.
Your avatar or AS is “automatically created based on your biometric information,” and even actively displays extrapolated characteristics, including real-time meatspace injuries. This is a major plot point that breeds public conjecture as to the Beast’s identity. In fact – and again, narrative convenience here – the characters we meet for the most part make little attempt to radically disguise or alter their physical appearance or behaviour, to the point that they are often easily recognizable for their physical selves. The petty woman with a fabricated idyllic Instagram life comprised of stock photos is a literal baby, and there’s never any doubt that Justin is a self-righteous bully no matter where he goes, and of course Shinobu handily deduces Suzu’s identity as Bell.1
The conceit that Bell requires U to be able to sing again because she cannot face physical reality and needs a new one to reinvent herself ignores the fact that she is only able to propel herself to fame through her singing because, well... she can actually sing. That’s not artifice, and U did not confer that ability, it was something she simply was able to express fully when freed from the constraints of social pressures and expectations. Central to this is Bell being able to project her most inner voice beyond her physical existence, essentially showing everyone her “true” self, while at the same time everyone (herself included) are fixated on discovering the “real” identity of others. The first time she meets The Dragon a.k.a. The Beast, she asks him who he is. Twice. And this is a question she will ask again and again. Others will ask it of her. Unveiling – doxxing - is used as a threat against herself and the Beast, strengthening the assertion that the users are hiding something and are not their true selves (in some form) while in U.
There is a moment during the iconic ballroom scene, exactly half-way through the film, when Beast and Bell embrace as the song “Lend me You Voice” plays. There is no dialogue, only the the lyrics emphasizing the cautious certainty that embodies all the lush emotion of a connection being made in VR, where the avatar is a mere capsule barely containing a beautifully bared soul.
“But you know, I just want you as you are,
Just the you that I see right before me.
It's all that has been on my mind... “
It’s really not all that’s been on her mind though, as Bell nor anyone else seem able to accept “just the you right before [themselves]” as sufficiently real. Not more than three words later she again asks of the Beast “who are you?” This was a real let down, coming from the height of an idyllic meeting of hearts to such a banal (and previously, and repeatedly, rebuffed) question.
If it weren’t for Kei and Tomo’s living situation the film might face more criticism for holding style over substance, but because of the very serious nature of child abuse as a subject, Belle takes on a tone which is at times out of sync with the indulgent visuals. No doubt this is well calculated, but it again contributes to the sense that there are two films here happening in two distinct worlds, rather than them being extensions of one another.
So if I may indulge in wading further into the weeds and follow up on my previous post, we can again look to Bahktin and another of his concepts. If virtual reality is a form of carnival, then The Beast is a perfect representative of the Grotesque. This theme emphasizes duality, the subversion of hierarchy, critiques societal norms, and speaks to the complexities of human existence. According to Bakhtin, “The men of the Middle Ages participated in two lives: the official and the carnival life. Two aspects of the world, the serious and the laughing aspect, coexisted in their consciousness.”2 While they coexisted, they never merged, just as the realities of U and the physical world remain as separate entities.
U is outwardly beautiful, while the Beast is (conventionally speaking) hideous. His monstrous appearance is in contrast to his noble interior, and his fight against authoritarian injustice which is likewise represented by (conventionally speaking) beautiful Übermenschen. It is no coincidence that by Bakhtin’s accounting, the “quintessence of the grotesque… is the role of the chimera.”3 All of this is to say that, as I began with, the virtual world of U is here a mere narrative device, and the specifics of its operation, the technology behind it, even to large extent their broader social implications are hardly touched upon or even have importance. There is a lot we willingly gloss over for the convenience of the story, like how of the five billion users of U, the protagonists both happen to live in the same country, and not far from one another at that! There was opportunity here to unite persons of wholly disparate cultures, and give them a life and understanding that would otherwise be nigh impossible, but then again, we often grapple with understanding those closest to us. The abuse that Kei and Tomo endure is on its own a world apart from Suzu’s.
It’s not so important that one understands how the warp drive of the starship Enterprise works (or even if it can work) so long as its crew is moved across worlds to advance the story. It is a literal vehicle while U is more metaphorical, being a vehicle of mental and emotional transformation rather than physical. The director of Belle, Mamarou Hosoda, neatly explains why he chose not to delve too deeply into specifics, for U is “...like the real world in that there is a limit to how much one person knows about the world we live in. It’s more important that you feel the scale of the world because you don’t know everything about it and it’s evolving all the time as people add to it.”4
Hosoda also says of the Internet that “...in the beginning it felt like a hopeful space, where the younger generation found change and moved things forward for the better. But as the Internet evolved during the past twenty years, I think it grew a lot closer to reality than we all thought it was going to be. A reality that has a lot of toxicity, of fake news and disinformation.”5 Those past twenty years saw power increasingly seized by the Justins of the world, and if we are to maintain and return to a hopeful space, we will need more Beasts and Bells, who can find themselves and each other in whichever world they dwell, and stand against authoritarianism wherever it imposes itself. But that is a post for another time.
1A distinction will be made from here between Belle, the film, and Bell, Suzu’s identity within U.
2Mikhail Bakhtin, Rabelais and His World (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1984), 96
3Ibid
4https://www.vulture.com/2022/01/belle-director-mamoru-hosoda-interview.html
5https://screenanarchy.com/2022/01/belle-interview-director-hosoda-mamoru-provides-hope.html