MONIKA

Over twelve minutes, a man uses his hands to touch the “skin” of his sex doll Monika. In Geeske Janßen’s documentary portrait, different details reveal a reality that is sometimes appears comprehensible and at other time entirely foreign. This effect is heightened by the anonymous, yet distinctive and also vulnerable voice of the protagonist. Within the space of the film, materiality, perception and emotions come to define various questions. What makes the repulsive acceptable? When does something comprehensible become repulsive? The interplay between desire and objectification emphases Monika’s dual function, creating a circular connection in turn: filmmaker, object, protagonist. The film only comes full circle during the credits, when Janßen thanks the protagonist for his trust in her. And we, the audience, are left with moral questions that Monika has only thrown up indirectly.

Over twelve minutes, a man uses his hands to touch the “skin” of his sex doll Monika. In Geeske Janßen’s documentary portrait, different details reveal a reality that is sometimes appears comprehensible and at other time entirely foreign. This effect is heightened by the anonymous, yet distinctive and also vulnerable voice of the protagonist. Within the space of the film, materiality, perception and emotions come to define various questions. What makes the repulsive acceptable? When does something comprehensible become repulsive? The interplay between desire and objectification emphases Monika’s dual function, creating a circular connection in turn: filmmaker, object, protagonist. The film only comes full circle during the credits, when Janßen thanks the protagonist for his trust in her. And we, the audience, are left with moral questions that Monika has only thrown up indirectly.

Emiliano Proietti

Geeske Janßen