(Note: this piece includes spoilers for The Duke of Burgundy.)

Peter Strickland’s film The Duke of Burgundy concerns two women named Cynthia and Evelyn (played by Sidse Babett Knudsen and Chiara D’Anna, respectively) who are involved in a romantic relationship with each other. To the consternation of some viewers and the delight of others, Strickland is not interested in the traditionally exploitative or titillating prospects of such a relationship.

The world in which the film takes place is a dreamscape culled from 1970s softcore and cult exploitation cinema. This is a world that is decidedly feminine in nature; there are literally no men in it.

While the film has garnered a large amount of critical acclaim, some viewers have complained about its lack of nudity and about the age and attractiveness of its leads, which is depressingly typical of the response to any film that does not star women who conform to popular Western cultural standards of beauty.

In addition to these pointless complaints, some viewers seem to be under the impression that The Duke of Burgundy is simply a remake of Radley Metzger’s 1975 film The Image. That film was a touchstone for depictions of BDSM relationships in highbrow erotic cinema, and was most likely a major influence on Strickland’s film.

While The Image is certainly excellent and required viewing for anyone interested in a serious study of sexuality in cinema (as are all of Metzger’s features), it ultimately views the relationship between its female characters through the eyes of its male narrator. The films share certain elements — most notably a focus on women involved in a BDSM relationship — but use those elements to different ends. A major component of this is the fact that The Duke of Burgundy presents its female characters in a context completely apart from male sexuality. Confusing the films as being “the same” means fundamentally misunderstanding at least one and probably both of them.

Obviously, The Duke of Burgundy is not the first film to portray the relationship dynamics between women in love. What sets the film apart from previous films that address some of the same concepts is that Strickland has carefully created a world in which male sexuality seems to be not just something on the periphery and unimportant to the film’s characters, but one in which it appears to not exist at all. There are no men in the film anywhere: not in backgrounds, or in paintings, or even referred to in the dialogue.

Further, Strickland provides very little in the way of details that could provide any definitive answers to exactly where and when the film takes place. This could simply be a highly insular community of women involved in a niche area of academic study, but it could just as easily be another planet, a parallel world, or a future Earth where there is no such thing as a human male. In fact, this second possibility is tantalizingly hinted at through small contextual details: the women seem to use butterfly mounts as currency, for example, and there is a distinct lack of any phallic imagery in addition to the absence of male characters.

This idea — that a sexuality can exist between female characters independent of any concept of male/phallic sexuality — has proven to be perplexing for some viewers. At least one writer has asserted in his review of the film that the characters’ sexuality must have arisen from some “evident past trauma” and is motivated by “profound suffering.” This sounds suspiciously like someone whose knowledge of BDSM is entirely derived from Fifty Shades of Grey, in which the title character Christian Grey is interested in “deviant” sexual behaviors due to his traumatic childhood.

This view of sexuality assumes that vanilla heterosexual activity is “normal” and anything that falls outside of this behavior is bizarre and unnatural, something that must be explained away as a psychiatric problem or behavioral disorder. This view is not only uncomfortably judgmental but also ignores an obvious, looming question: what if there is no such thing as “normal” heterosexuality in the world of The Duke of Burgundy? As we learn a little about the other characters in the film, it becomes clear that many of them are involved in relationships similar to that of its two lead characters. BDSM appears to be the “normal” type of sexuality in this world.

Assuming that the film takes place in a world in which men do not exist means recognizing that The Duke of Burgundy could possibly be a piece of speculative genre fiction. Strickland uses the type of imagery commonly associated with filmmakers like Jesús Franco, Jean Rollin, and Radley Metzger to create a world in which a group of female characters interact with each other in ways that are recognizably human even if they are divorced from traditional heteronormativity.

One of the major themes addressed by the film is that romantic relationships between humans have common inherent rewards and problems regardless of sexuality. Cynthia and Evelyn share moments of warm companionship, work to fulfill each other’s sexual needs, and struggle with conflicts that arise due to their distinct personalities. The viewer may not exactly see themselves in either character, but chances are they can identify closely with what the characters are experiencing.

Perhaps the film’s most poignant and humorous scene is the visit from The Carpenter (Fatma Mohamed). For her birthday, Evelyn wants a bed with a chamber underneath in which she can sleep, trapped while Cynthia sleeps on the bed above her. Unfortunately, the women have underestimated the amount of work that goes into such a project as well as its demand, and The Carpenter informs them that she would not be able to deliver the bed in time for Evelyn’s birthday. Cynthia offers to pay The Carpenter in exceptionally rare butterfly mounts, but it is simply impossible.

Evelyn is crushed, but perks up when The Carpenter suggests that she may be able to build a “human toilet” in time for Evelyn’s birthday. At this point, Cynthia has to leave for town. She momentarily stands at the window watching The Carpenter explain the mechanics of the human toilet to Cynthia with some very odd, very funny hand gestures.

But when the film cuts back to Cynthia, she is on the verge of tears. Evelyn is disappointed about not getting exactly the birthday present she had hoped for, but Cynthia is devastated that she has failed to provide it even though the circumstances contributing to that failure are largely out of her control.

If there was any question before how Cynthia feels about Evelyn, this single moment provides a definitive answer. Similarly, a scene near the end of the film gives the viewer a clear picture of how Evelyn feels about Cynthia. During a run-through of Evelyn’s complicated role-playing scenario, Cynthia breaks down. She’s exhausted, but angry with herself for disappointing Evelyn again.

Throughout the film, Evelyn has been depicted as somewhat selfish and demanding, but here she is tender and apologetic. She has been so excited that Cynthia has been willing to accommodate her desires that she did not recognize how the elaborate work has affected Cynthia. Evelyn comforts Cynthia and assures her that the most important thing is that they are both happy. Evelyn appreciates Cynthia’s efforts and realizes that in order to maintain a better balance in their shared lives, they must work out a compromise that includes the role-playing and punishments she so enjoys but also sees to Cynthia’s wants and needs in the relationship.

What follows is a montage of the two women engaged in a more traditional mode of couple-hood, riding bikes in the country, taking picnics, laughing together while lounging in bed, etc. The film ends with Cynthia and Evelyn in place, preparing for another round of role-playing, but having worked through a difficult adjustment together. Cynthia’s stone-faced look in the mirror at the close of the film indicates a renewed commitment to her part in Evelyn’s play and pleasure.