Watch ‘Cuties’ on Netflix For Yourself, Then Apologize to Maïmouna Doucouré

It feels a little bit futile to write another article in defense of Netflix’s Cuties. The chances of changing the minds of its many detractors—who accused Netflix of promoting pedophilia, who gave the trailer 1.6 million dislikes on YouTube, who sent drove director Maïmouna Doucouré off of social media with death threats, who signed a petition demanding Netflix cancel the film, and who are still sending me emails telling me I’m a pedophile—seem slim to none.

That’s partially due to the fact that a not-insignificant portion of the backlash against Cuties stems from right-wing QAnon conspiracy theorists, aka people who believe that Democrats and Hollywood celebrities are behind a child sex trafficking ring. It seems unlikely that people who rely on unverified “secret moles” on 4chan for information will listen to reason. And it’s partially due to the fact that the damage has been done. Once you put a narrative like the Cuties controversy out into the world—especially one that’s accompanied by the shock-value image of preteen girls striking provocative poses in provocative outfits—it’s all but impossible to close Pandora’s box.

But even if it’s pointless, I’m still coming to Cuties’ defense. Someone needs to, both because the film is—ironically—a thoughtful criticism of the way society pressures girls to be sexy at far too young an age, and because it’s scary that YouTube-addicted conspiracy theorists, even if they think they’re “saving the children,” have the power to shape the narrative of a Sundance award-winning film. Cuties was shaping up to be a stellar feature film debut for Doucouré. Any filmmaker will tell you a strong feature film debut means a great deal in the industry, especially for women directors, and especially for women directors of color. Instead, in an interview with Deadline, Doucouré said she received numerous death threats and “attacks on my character from people who had not seen the film.” She added that Netflix CEO Ted Saranados called to apologize to her personally, and of course, Netflix publicly apologized for the controversial poster on Twitter.

Many seem content to blame this mess on Netflix’s marketing of the film. The photo was undoubtedly a foolish choice for the poster. It’s taken from the movie’s finale, which finds Amy, an 11-year-old daughter of Senegalese immigrants desperate to fit in, and her group of mean-girl friends performing at a local dance competition. (The crowd is shocked by their skimpy outfits and dance moves, because, again, this movie is a thoughtful commentary on the way the hypersexualization of women in media affects girls at impressionable ages.) Even actor Tessa Thompson amended her tweet that came to Cuties defense last month, stating that she was “disappointed to see how it was positioned in terms of marketing,” and that she understood “the response of everybody.”

The truth of the matter is, as uncomfortable as that Netflix poster was, Cuties is a purposefully uncomfortable watch. That’s the point. It’s a truth that girls who are too young to even understand what sex is are sexualizing themselves because they perceive sexuality as a way for women to achieve power and attention. How can you blame them, when TikTok and Instagram and YouTube followers prove them right every day?

French filmmakers have a reputation for going further than Americans would dare to dream of going, and Doucouré is no exception. She pushes the boundaries to address a tricky subject that is rarely spoken of in coming-of-age films for girls. One reason for that is, of course, the real-life young actors, whose own boundaries and comfort levels need to be taken into serious consideration when making a film like Cuties. I sincerely hope Doucouré did so with her young stars, but I wasn’t on the set, and therefore can’t say with certainty that she did. However, I can speak to the way the subject is handled in the film, which is with caution, compassion, and poise. While it is not without faults, Cuties empathizes with the girls who fall victim to society’s pressures, rather than condemn them. It extends the same courtesy to Amy’s traditional Muslim family—Amy’s mother, played by Maïmouna Gueye, is loving and forgiving, but even she can’t protect Amy from this.

There’s absolutely no way to convey the above nuance in a poster, hence why the Netflix marketing choice was a bad one. But to place the blame solely on the streaming service is to let the angry mob off the hook. The people who owe Doucouré an apology more than anyone are the ones sending her death threats, the ones badgering critics to change our reviews to “rotten” on Rotten Tomatoes (not how that works, incidentally), and the ones spamming the trailer on YouTube and Instagram, all before they ever watched the film. Now that Cuties is streaming on Netflix, those people could, in theory, watch the movie for themselves before listening to a Reddit thread that told them to get mad. But I’m not holding my breath.

Watch Cuties on Netflix