For whatever reason, the Commander hasn’t bothered me much. I know he is essentially raping Offred once a month — but something about his performance made me feel sympathetic for him. That all changed today.
This week’s episode returns to Gilead for an awkward night out. With Mrs. Waterford, out of town visiting her mother, the Commander decides to take Offred into what was formerly Boston. The night begins with a sequence in which the Commander helps Offred get ready for their date. He starts by slowly shaving her legs, mainly because she isn’t allowed to use a razor — but more for the intensely intimate control he has over her. Next, he gives her make-up and asks, “Do you still remember?” as if three years would erase countless hours of applications. Giving her a short, gold dress and stilettos, they leave as Nick drives them into town.
Arriving at a seemingly-abandoned building, which doubles as an upscale sex-club, staffed by a group of women called The Jezebels. With Biblical metaphors in tow, these women are there to satisfy the needs of the men visiting. Offred runs into Moira (who had earlier escaped on the train without her but didn’t get far), who says she prefers the life of a Jezebel over the life of a Handmaid. She has clearly lost all hope of escaping Gilead.
The Commander is nothing short of skin-crawling while he’s ordering Offred drinks and slowly running his fingers down her arms. It’s clear that he believes Offred is a willing participant and wants to have sex with him in a non-ceremony-baby-making way. However, this is the first time (at least for me) that the Commander has appeared as a predator; slowly stalking his prey and anticipating the kill.
Through a flashback the audience see’s the Waterford’s previous Handmaid when Nick found her hanging from the celling in her room. As her body is being taken from the house, Mrs. Waterford snaps at the Commander and says, “What did you expect was going to happen?”
At that moment, it hit me that I’ve been watching the show wrong this entire time.
The first time I saw Serena Joy (aka Mrs. Waterford) I viewed her as the enemy. A frigid, unsympathetic woman who felt comfortable using her power over Offred. However, there have been hints that Serena Joy is just as caught up in this world as Offred. Having to give up her life as an author, being silenced by her husband, forced to live in a society that only values women if they can conceive which — through no fault of her own — she cannot. Seeing her sympathy for the previous Handmaid, you realize that Serena doesn’t hate Offred — she hates what she’s doing to Offred. The Handmaid system was conceived by men, and Serena Joy is just as trapped as Offred.
All of this shines a brighter light on a true power of men: pitting women against each other. From the beginning, I sided with Offred — without even consciously thinking about it, I made Serena the enemy — and not the Commander. I made Serena the cause for pain in Offred’s life, not the man who was literally raping her.
I couldn’t help but be reminded of the Women’s March earlier this year. So many women on my various feeds were saying things like, “This march is so stupid/ women are being ridiculous/ I have a great life I don’t need to march.” If you don’t want to march that’s fine, but why is it your default to tear down women who are? You don’t have to support the march — but why take steps to ridicule it? It seems all too common that women are more than ready to tear each other down – with little or no encouragement. I know personally, I do it all the time; a new woman starts at my job and my immediate impulse is to see her as a threat. What does it say about us, as women, that all too often our default is to cannibalize each other? Offred seems to have just as much disdain for Serena Joy as she does for the Commander — but should that be the case?
The end of the episode has Serena Joy returning home with a gift for Offred: a tiny music box with a twirling ballerina. Serena tells Offred that it belonged to her as a child and she thought Offred would like it. Such a simple gesture, but a significant one. As Offred points out, they’re both just, “Girls trapped in a wooden box,” and they could use each other to break out.
Toni Jannell covers television for Creative Loafing. Email her here.
This article appears in Jun 1-8, 2017.