Lily of the Valley

Growing up, the women I saw on screen were often defined by trauma, whether sexual violence or the emotional harm inflicted upon them by society. So much of how I came to understand myself was shaped by the expectations and perspectives of those around me. I saw myself as inferior to men, inherently more vulnerable, and was constantly reminded that it was my responsibility to ensure I was never violated. I believe many women grow up carrying some form of resentment, whether toward society, toward men, or, most painfully, toward themselves.

Stepping into the world of Lily of the Valley was liberating. Here was an opportunity to explore the female experience without reducing the female body to a spectacle of suffering. These women are not simply vessels for trauma, nor are they subjected to violence merely to prove a point. And yet, the film is not without its own brutality. Its central irony lies in the expectation that these girls must inflict upon men the very cruelties that have been inflicted upon women. Beneath this reversal is a more unsettling question: what becomes of us when, in an attempt to survive the world as it is, we begin to betray the goodness within ourselves?

While Lily of the Valley may invite the label of a feminist film, I resist the idea that its meaning should be confined to a single category or community. The questions it raises are not exclusive to women, nor do they belong to any one ideology. They concern the human capacity to inherit cruelty, to mistake it for truth, and to perpetuate it long after we have forgotten where it began.

For me, this film is not about proving how much women have suffered. It is about confronting the beliefs that make suffering inevitable. I was excited to explore what happens when the values we inherit collide with the person we might otherwise have been. Because the most insidious forms of violence are not always those inflicted upon us, but those we learn to justify, until we can no longer distinguish between what the world has taught us to be and who we truly are.

— J.W.C.