The Danish Girl turns five: Eddie Redmayne’s sublime narrative of the struggles of a transwoman

A trapped identity within the confines of an unwanted body; a long shimmery silk dress, and the impending feeling that you have got to transform. The Danish Girl is an exhaustive period drama based on David Ebershoff’s eponymous novel, loosely inspired by the lives of Danish painters Lili Elbe and Gerda Wegener. Eddie Redmayne’s depiction of Einar Wegener (nee Lili) is evidently the centre of the film’s narrative flux. Redmayne’s nuanced treatment of the life and tribulations of Einar is both heartwrenching and significant in starting conversations about heteronormative gender spaces in society and the need to address the needs and concerns of marginalised sections like the transgenders.

The main plot revolves around Einar’s self-realisation and the journey that he undertakes to achieve this. From Einar to Lili Elbe, Redmayne embodied the heart of the artist, who was the first human to undergo sex reassignment surgery. Lili, in Hooper’s narrative, faces harsher circumstances as compared to her real-life counterpart. Redmayne’s Lili is depicted as a recluse in Paris, while Gerda (Alicia Vikander) is seen grappling with attraction to Lili’s fictional friend Hans (Matthias Schoenaerts). Hooper’s despairing treatment of Lili’s storyline has been centre of the criticism against the films. 

The real-life Lili, in fact, led out a comparatively peaceful life with Gerda as a lesbian couple. Paris, well may have been a purposeful choice since it was one of the most liberal cities in the 1910s to 20s. The city, with its flourishing trends in cubism and surrealism, was the epicentre of new perspectives, giving birth to open-minded societies that defied any normative measures of classification. Hence, Gerda and Lili’s socio-economic status was never a threat there. In fact, in her memoir, Lili wrote after their shift to Paris, “A few happy and harmonious years were now in store for Grete [Gerda] and me.”

Hooper’s conscious decision to thrust Lili’s final years into sorrowful oblivion was a treatment that did not bode well with many viewers, who were already cynical about Redmayne’s (a cis male) casting as a transwoman. A particular scene that showcases a physical tussle between Lili and two men was a creative liberty that not only sits incongruously with the plot but was completely fictional. Redmayne’s nomination to the Best Actor category for the film, though well deserved, was a contentious move, as many felt, the film was reductive of the less privileged. Recently, Redmayne even spoke out about his casting as Lili and confessed he “regrated” taking up the role and conceded that it should have been played by a transgender woman.

Casting and cinematic liberties aside, the film nuanced dealing of Einar is worthy of note. Through his character, The Danish Girl dismantles notions of a sacrosanct constructed identity. Hooper ensured that his narrative retelling would point towards a bluntly straightforward assessment of how gender might become undone.

Einar’s emotionality in the film, yet another facet beautifully decoded by Redmayne, was a defensive front. His choice to transform into Lili also gave him the channel to live moments in complete abandon, orchestrated much like a theatrical show. The cinematography is complementary to these motifs – scenes with multiple tutus flailing gently in the background, neatly hung shirts almost gave an impression of an intimate stage setting. Hooper stitches various such moments of Lili draped in scintillating gowns, looking into the mirror, trying to understand what the image says back to her. Lili’s constant study of her persona is a process in development. She understands herself better every time she sees herself in this avatar, culminating in her need to undergo the surgery.

But most importantly, The Danish Girl is also about the effort of a wife towards her husband’s needs. Gerda’s character questions the then-prevalent notions of companionship by purposely not wanting to label her relationship with Einar/Lili.

Despite raising its fair share of eyebrows, The Danish Girl tells the story of unconditional companionship and an undying need to be true to one’s inner self.