s a teenager, sleepovers with my girlfriends would
pretty much always go the same way. There’d be
a decadent spread of pizza, crisps and sweet treats
containing ill-advised amounts of sugar. Feasting would
conclude with the consumption of fizzy pop or – once we
were brave enough – alcohol, which we worked out could
be disguised in mini bubble bath bottles from The Body
Shop. We’d hole up in a room large enough to house
numerous “sleeping” girls, chatting into the wee hours,
making prank phone calls, braiding hair, choreographing
dance routines and occasionally playing a risqué game.
Without fail, at some point in the festivities, there’d be a
film. And there was nothing we liked more than a teen
movie starring a dazzling girl gang. Squashed onto one
sofa, clutching pillows and wearing pyjamas, we’d glow
as the squad struts four abreast down the school corridors,
we’d cheer as their sassiness would defeat or seduce the
classroom hottie and we’d admire their carefully curated
and coordinated outfits. Eyes glued to the captivating
women on screen, we felt empowered, we felt inspired.
But – with our hands intertwined or heads leaning on
each other’s shoulders – there were things about the girl
gangs on the screen of the small portable TV with rounded
corners that didn’t seem quite right to us. Because despite
what our own female friendships looked like, the ones we
were watching were very often destructive, manipulative
and simmering with violence.
From the Pink Ladies to the Plastics, we learnt that much
had to be sacrificed in order to join the gang. It wasn’t just
about losing a nerdy cardigan or upgrading your wardrobe- although that was essential – it was about forgoing all
outside associations, silencing any unique interests and
unquestionably following the Queen Bee. And once you
were in, there was no out. In The Craft, Nancy tells Sarah:
“In the old days, if a witch betrayed her coven, they’d kill
her.” Murder or not, deviation from the established norms
of the group had severe consequences.
“When we were growing up, we didn’t see reflections of
ourselves,” says Sarah Gavron, director of the film Rocks.
“We saw things that were entertaining but we didn’t see
things that felt kind of truthful.” Produced in collaboration
with writers Theresa Ikoko and Claire Wilson, Rocks is
Gavron’s response to the reductive portrayal of girls in
film, often pushing them to the margins or forcing them to
fixate on boys. Rocks is a celebration of the positive power
of sisterhood, although Gavron understands where the old
stereotypes come from: “You can belong in the wrong way,
where you don’t express who you are because the desire
WORDS & INTERVIEW BY HANNAH CLUGSTON ILLUSTRATION BY ALICE CARNEGIE TYPE BY LOLOSARAH GAVRON’S ROCKS
UNDOES HARMFUL CLICHÉS
ABOUT HOW CINEMA
TRADITIONALLY DEPICTS
ALL-GIRL CLIQUES.
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