• Effortless Relocation: Hire Movers and Packers in Sharjah with SmileHandyy
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    Effortless Relocation: Hire Movers and Packers in Sharjah with SmileHandyy Hire Movers and Packers in Sharjah with SmileHandyy for a seamless and stress-free relocation experience. Our professional team offers comprehensive services, including organized packing, dismantling and assembling of furniture, safe transportation, and unpacking at your new location. We prioritize the safety of your belongings by sanitizing moved items and providing an AED 1000 protection cover. With a 4.7/5 rating from over 3,400 verified customer reviews, we ensure premium service at an affordable price. Trust SmileHandyy to handle your move efficiently and with utmost care. to know more visit at:- https://www.smilehandyy.com/sharjah/service_detail/movers-and-packers
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  • Bellows Type Dismantling Joint
    https://www.flexpertbellows.com/bellow-type-dismantling-joints/
    The Flexpert Bellow type Dismantling Joints are designed to enable mounting and dismantling of valves from pipelines.
    Bellows Type Dismantling Joint https://www.flexpertbellows.com/bellow-type-dismantling-joints/ The Flexpert Bellow type Dismantling Joints are designed to enable mounting and dismantling of valves from pipelines.
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  • Pump connectors for Suction/Discharge
    https://www.flexpertbellows.com/flexible-pump-connector/
    One of our regular export range of pump connectors up to DN600 size for suction and discharge to absorb misalignment, thermal movements and vibrations offering a perfectly flexible connection also used as dismantling joint.
    Pump connectors for Suction/Discharge https://www.flexpertbellows.com/flexible-pump-connector/ One of our regular export range of pump connectors up to DN600 size for suction and discharge to absorb misalignment, thermal movements and vibrations offering a perfectly flexible connection also used as dismantling joint.
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  • Bellows Type Dismantling Joints - Flexpert Bellows
    https://www.flexpertbellows.com/bellow-type-dismantling-joints/
    The Flexpert Bellow type Dismantling Joints are designed to enable mounting and dismantling of valves from pipelines.
    #BellowsTypeDismantlingJoints
    Bellows Type Dismantling Joints - Flexpert Bellows https://www.flexpertbellows.com/bellow-type-dismantling-joints/ The Flexpert Bellow type Dismantling Joints are designed to enable mounting and dismantling of valves from pipelines. #BellowsTypeDismantlingJoints
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  • Bellows Type Dismantling Joints
    https://www.flexpertbellows.com/bellow-type-dismantling-joints/
    The Flexpert Bellow type Dismantling Joints are designed to enable the mounting and dismantling of valves from pipelines.
    #bellowstypedismantlingjoints, #dismantlingjoint
    Bellows Type Dismantling Joints https://www.flexpertbellows.com/bellow-type-dismantling-joints/ The Flexpert Bellow type Dismantling Joints are designed to enable the mounting and dismantling of valves from pipelines. #bellowstypedismantlingjoints, #dismantlingjoint
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  • BURNOUT-
    Match Day and Mental Health.
    Personal Perspective: Preventing burnout in medical school.
    Reviewed by Kaja Perina

    KEY POINTS-
    March 17 is national Match Day: an important day for reflecting on medical school.
    Doctors have some of the highest rates of work dissatisfaction and suicide.
    Many factors that contribute to physician burnout begin in medical school with 11% of students contemplating suicide.
    Exploring medical school experiences can help identify how to work upstream to prevent physician burnout and improve mental health.
    March 17 is Match Day in the US. At exactly 12:00 pm EST, medical students all over the country, including myself, will be handed an envelope enclosing our fate: the residency program where we matched and will train for the next three to seven years, depending on specialty. For many of us (and our support networks), this is the most momentous day of our lives— a culmination of innumerable sacrifices and hours of studying. But as I look forward to a career in psychiatry, I can’t help but look back at the mountain we traversed and think about how our experiences have shaped our psyches.

    Compared to other professions, doctors have some of the highest rates of work dissatisfaction and suicide; around 300 physicians die by suicide each year.1 What I find particularly shocking is that this shift begins in medical school as we become immersed in the intense, often unforgiving culture. Upon entering medical school, studies find that medical students experience lower rates of depression compared with age- and education-matched peers. Yet, during medical school, the prevalence of depression jumps. Almost 30% of students report suffering from depression or depressive symptoms at some time during medical school, and 11% of students contemplate suicide.2 A confluence of factors contributes to these acute changes: the sheer volume of work, lack of sleep, stress from continuous high-stakes examinations, isolation due to academic demands, fears about future capability, feelings of inadequacy, and a non-supportive work environment.3

    Emotional and physical crises don’t happen on your timeline.
    This past year, I was rotating on internal medicine, providing care for patients with acute hypoxia and congestive heart failure. Meanwhile, on a medicine floor just like mine across the continent, one of my grandmothers died of respiratory failure while the other was hospitalized with a failing heart. Each day, I saw them in the patients I cared for—my grief unexpectedly bubbling up. In medical school, I’ve had three family members pass away and a few health issues, some of these occurring dangerously close to critical exams. The administrators were supportive but could only offer me the option of pushing through or taking the entire year off (one week off meant too many missed requirements).

    Medical school has an unceasing deluge of tasks unkind to the unpredictability of life and healing. Through this, I’ve learned the importance of being in conversation with myself to assess (and reassess) my capacity to carry on or my need for time off. I’ve found it similarly essential to communicate with faculty and access support resources to process difficult emotions and prevent compounding them, which can create fertile ground for future burnout.

    Emotions and self-worth inevitably become intertwined with our professional roles.
    As a third-year student on my surgical rotation, the attending urologist began grilling me on the embryological development of the testes. When I blanked, he would not let up with his questions. He emphatically punctuated the diatribe with, “even a preschooler would have more knowledge than you.” For the rest of the week, my gaze was locked on the floor. I turned inward, questioning my self-worth and whether I deserved to be in medicine.

    What that physician said to me was unacceptable: everyone deserves psychological safety in their workplace. When discussing the problematic behavior of senior physicians, one of my classmates said, “**** rolls downhill.” Perhaps, but that does not mean we should have to sit at the bottom and eat it. Improving mental health in medicine requires addressing people who sustain (historically) toxic work environments. In addition to changing this culture, personal reflection can help disentangle our worth from our white coats.

    At my core, I know I am a good friend, partner, and person, but these transcendent feelings sometimes become hard to remember. To spend as much time in the hospital/library and sacrifice as much as we do — time, money, relationships, sleep, mental health — means that the line between job and personhood becomes blurred. Cognitive distortions often form and are exacerbated by society convincing us our profession is a “calling.” Given this, it is invaluable to find time for the activities and people that remind us of our identity outside of medicine to re-calibrate our self-worth.

    Solidarity can and should take many forms.
    “You’re going to meet all your best friends in medical school,” I listened expectantly to my dad (a doctor), as we drove to the airport before year-one orientation. It didn’t take me long to realize that immediate, sorority-like friendship is not everyone's reality. However, after four years, I can attest that a closeness does develop with classmates. This bond was not immediately obvious to me, and it didn’t come from expertly navigating medical school’s new social norms and high-school-like cliques.

    I feel this solidarity as I hurry down the hospital hallways and lock eyes with another fourth-year student. We nod to each other with understanding eyes. This bondedness developed through the unspeakable amount we’ve jointly experienced: from innumerable lectures/exams to difficult rotations where we endured doctors with the emotional intelligence of sea sponges, fluid-filled nights on OB/GYN, or the heat of multi-hour skin grafts on burn victims where they keep the operating room hot. Our closeness is less High School Musical and more Lord of the Flies.

    Not everyone’s journey is the same.
    Although medical school is notoriously demanding, such demands are shaped by intersectionality and not necessarily borne equally. At my White Coat Ceremony, over a third of students received their white coats from a family member already in medicine– a revolving door of privilege. Medicine has historically been (and remains) a white and high-income space.4,5 Despite more individuals from underrepresented backgrounds entering medical school today, the environments that students arrive to learn in have largely stayed the same. The necessary anti-racist institutional culture, financial resources, mental health support, and representative mentorship that allow students to feel supported are not yet robust.

    This cultural disconnect is consequential: one study of medical students found that increased microaggression frequency from colleagues and senior physicians was associated with a positive depression screen in a dose-response relationship.6 The Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC) is working to increase the number of students underrepresented in medicine. But the goal cannot merely be representation, rather it should be to create a new culture and system where students can thrive. The floor needs to be open for students to describe their experiences while institutions work to address systems that impact their mental health and potential.

    It is hard to pause and look back when constantly moving forward.
    I remember the shell I became and the neuroticism that set in while studying for the US medical licensing exams (USMLE). For weeks, I sat studying for 15 hours a day, not leaving my apartment, and attempting to sleep while gripped by the stress of my exam score determining my ability to match into the specialty of my choice. After completing our first USMLE (Step 1), my classmates and I were ecstatic, scrambling to organize parties to celebrate before our fast-approaching clinical rotations.

    I’ve taken over 400 exams since starting college and, somehow, it hasn’t become less stressful. The stakes have only felt higher as the sunk cost and bearing on my professional future grows. And as the competition for medical school and residency increases, a student must not only have impeccable grades but also be a renaissance person (do ground-breaking research, start a non-profit organization, climb Mount Everest, found a start-up, win a Nobel Prize, etc.); expert extrovert (winning over each resident, doctor, interviewer evaluating us); and world-renowned used car salesman (packaging oneself in countless application essays and interviews). Then, once you finally get into medical school or match into your dream residency or fellowship, they tell you to relax and enjoy it. How is a person whose cortisol and productivity have been running at such a high-octane level supposed to simply chill?

    It’s hard to flip the switch into Zen mode– it takes time for our bodies to let go of cumulative stress. Yet, the demands in medicine never stop, and the habits we convince ourselves are temporary often carry over. Unlearning conditioned behaviors is hard, making it vital to learn how to pause (guilt-free) despite the inundation of to-dos early in our careers.

    Understanding mental health on an intellectual level is different from questioning its applicability to oneself.
    Although physician suicide is the most acute and devastating issue surrounding mental health in medicine, the downstream impacts of medicine’s high stress and isolation are much more expansive. Students around me have struggled with anxiety, eating disorders, exercise addictions, and substance use.

    As medical institutions address the external factors contributing to trainees' mental health challenges, students should also feel empowered and accountable to lend and seek help– dismantling stigma in the process. When we think about physician burnout, we must work upstream and broaden our conceptualization of mental health risk factors and what struggling looks like (a student can still score in the top percentile on exams). We can all play a part in preventing physician burnout by creating a culture of reflexivity, support, and accountability– and joining together to advocate for more robust mental health resources and workplace protections.
    BURNOUT- Match Day and Mental Health. Personal Perspective: Preventing burnout in medical school. Reviewed by Kaja Perina KEY POINTS- March 17 is national Match Day: an important day for reflecting on medical school. Doctors have some of the highest rates of work dissatisfaction and suicide. Many factors that contribute to physician burnout begin in medical school with 11% of students contemplating suicide. Exploring medical school experiences can help identify how to work upstream to prevent physician burnout and improve mental health. March 17 is Match Day in the US. At exactly 12:00 pm EST, medical students all over the country, including myself, will be handed an envelope enclosing our fate: the residency program where we matched and will train for the next three to seven years, depending on specialty. For many of us (and our support networks), this is the most momentous day of our lives— a culmination of innumerable sacrifices and hours of studying. But as I look forward to a career in psychiatry, I can’t help but look back at the mountain we traversed and think about how our experiences have shaped our psyches. Compared to other professions, doctors have some of the highest rates of work dissatisfaction and suicide; around 300 physicians die by suicide each year.1 What I find particularly shocking is that this shift begins in medical school as we become immersed in the intense, often unforgiving culture. Upon entering medical school, studies find that medical students experience lower rates of depression compared with age- and education-matched peers. Yet, during medical school, the prevalence of depression jumps. Almost 30% of students report suffering from depression or depressive symptoms at some time during medical school, and 11% of students contemplate suicide.2 A confluence of factors contributes to these acute changes: the sheer volume of work, lack of sleep, stress from continuous high-stakes examinations, isolation due to academic demands, fears about future capability, feelings of inadequacy, and a non-supportive work environment.3 Emotional and physical crises don’t happen on your timeline. This past year, I was rotating on internal medicine, providing care for patients with acute hypoxia and congestive heart failure. Meanwhile, on a medicine floor just like mine across the continent, one of my grandmothers died of respiratory failure while the other was hospitalized with a failing heart. Each day, I saw them in the patients I cared for—my grief unexpectedly bubbling up. In medical school, I’ve had three family members pass away and a few health issues, some of these occurring dangerously close to critical exams. The administrators were supportive but could only offer me the option of pushing through or taking the entire year off (one week off meant too many missed requirements). Medical school has an unceasing deluge of tasks unkind to the unpredictability of life and healing. Through this, I’ve learned the importance of being in conversation with myself to assess (and reassess) my capacity to carry on or my need for time off. I’ve found it similarly essential to communicate with faculty and access support resources to process difficult emotions and prevent compounding them, which can create fertile ground for future burnout. Emotions and self-worth inevitably become intertwined with our professional roles. As a third-year student on my surgical rotation, the attending urologist began grilling me on the embryological development of the testes. When I blanked, he would not let up with his questions. He emphatically punctuated the diatribe with, “even a preschooler would have more knowledge than you.” For the rest of the week, my gaze was locked on the floor. I turned inward, questioning my self-worth and whether I deserved to be in medicine. What that physician said to me was unacceptable: everyone deserves psychological safety in their workplace. When discussing the problematic behavior of senior physicians, one of my classmates said, “shit rolls downhill.” Perhaps, but that does not mean we should have to sit at the bottom and eat it. Improving mental health in medicine requires addressing people who sustain (historically) toxic work environments. In addition to changing this culture, personal reflection can help disentangle our worth from our white coats. At my core, I know I am a good friend, partner, and person, but these transcendent feelings sometimes become hard to remember. To spend as much time in the hospital/library and sacrifice as much as we do — time, money, relationships, sleep, mental health — means that the line between job and personhood becomes blurred. Cognitive distortions often form and are exacerbated by society convincing us our profession is a “calling.” Given this, it is invaluable to find time for the activities and people that remind us of our identity outside of medicine to re-calibrate our self-worth. Solidarity can and should take many forms. “You’re going to meet all your best friends in medical school,” I listened expectantly to my dad (a doctor), as we drove to the airport before year-one orientation. It didn’t take me long to realize that immediate, sorority-like friendship is not everyone's reality. However, after four years, I can attest that a closeness does develop with classmates. This bond was not immediately obvious to me, and it didn’t come from expertly navigating medical school’s new social norms and high-school-like cliques. I feel this solidarity as I hurry down the hospital hallways and lock eyes with another fourth-year student. We nod to each other with understanding eyes. This bondedness developed through the unspeakable amount we’ve jointly experienced: from innumerable lectures/exams to difficult rotations where we endured doctors with the emotional intelligence of sea sponges, fluid-filled nights on OB/GYN, or the heat of multi-hour skin grafts on burn victims where they keep the operating room hot. Our closeness is less High School Musical and more Lord of the Flies. Not everyone’s journey is the same. Although medical school is notoriously demanding, such demands are shaped by intersectionality and not necessarily borne equally. At my White Coat Ceremony, over a third of students received their white coats from a family member already in medicine– a revolving door of privilege. Medicine has historically been (and remains) a white and high-income space.4,5 Despite more individuals from underrepresented backgrounds entering medical school today, the environments that students arrive to learn in have largely stayed the same. The necessary anti-racist institutional culture, financial resources, mental health support, and representative mentorship that allow students to feel supported are not yet robust. This cultural disconnect is consequential: one study of medical students found that increased microaggression frequency from colleagues and senior physicians was associated with a positive depression screen in a dose-response relationship.6 The Association of American Medical Colleges (AAMC) is working to increase the number of students underrepresented in medicine. But the goal cannot merely be representation, rather it should be to create a new culture and system where students can thrive. The floor needs to be open for students to describe their experiences while institutions work to address systems that impact their mental health and potential. It is hard to pause and look back when constantly moving forward. I remember the shell I became and the neuroticism that set in while studying for the US medical licensing exams (USMLE). For weeks, I sat studying for 15 hours a day, not leaving my apartment, and attempting to sleep while gripped by the stress of my exam score determining my ability to match into the specialty of my choice. After completing our first USMLE (Step 1), my classmates and I were ecstatic, scrambling to organize parties to celebrate before our fast-approaching clinical rotations. I’ve taken over 400 exams since starting college and, somehow, it hasn’t become less stressful. The stakes have only felt higher as the sunk cost and bearing on my professional future grows. And as the competition for medical school and residency increases, a student must not only have impeccable grades but also be a renaissance person (do ground-breaking research, start a non-profit organization, climb Mount Everest, found a start-up, win a Nobel Prize, etc.); expert extrovert (winning over each resident, doctor, interviewer evaluating us); and world-renowned used car salesman (packaging oneself in countless application essays and interviews). Then, once you finally get into medical school or match into your dream residency or fellowship, they tell you to relax and enjoy it. How is a person whose cortisol and productivity have been running at such a high-octane level supposed to simply chill? It’s hard to flip the switch into Zen mode– it takes time for our bodies to let go of cumulative stress. Yet, the demands in medicine never stop, and the habits we convince ourselves are temporary often carry over. Unlearning conditioned behaviors is hard, making it vital to learn how to pause (guilt-free) despite the inundation of to-dos early in our careers. Understanding mental health on an intellectual level is different from questioning its applicability to oneself. Although physician suicide is the most acute and devastating issue surrounding mental health in medicine, the downstream impacts of medicine’s high stress and isolation are much more expansive. Students around me have struggled with anxiety, eating disorders, exercise addictions, and substance use. As medical institutions address the external factors contributing to trainees' mental health challenges, students should also feel empowered and accountable to lend and seek help– dismantling stigma in the process. When we think about physician burnout, we must work upstream and broaden our conceptualization of mental health risk factors and what struggling looks like (a student can still score in the top percentile on exams). We can all play a part in preventing physician burnout by creating a culture of reflexivity, support, and accountability– and joining together to advocate for more robust mental health resources and workplace protections.
    0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 3كيلو بايت مشاهدة 0 معاينة
  • PSYCHOPATHY-
    10 Films/Movies That Help Explain Female Psychopaths.
    A Personal Perspective: 10 films offer fresh takes on psychopathic manipulation.
    Reviewed by Devon Frye

    KEY POINTS-
    Female psychopathy may be more complex than research psychologists suggest.
    Ten recent films bring nuance to discussions about gender and psychopathy.
    Film can give viewers insight into what psychopathic manipulation feels like.
    The best films about psychopathy behave psychopathically towards viewers.
    The best films about psychopaths, female or otherwise, behave like psychopaths—that is, they actively manipulate a viewer using film techniques that cause a viewer to feel betrayed.

    A “psychopathic film,” I argue, uses film techniques like flashbacks, unreliable narrators, and mise-en-scene to give viewers a visceral experience of manipulation. These films titrate manageable feelings of betrayal for viewers so that they may recognize these feelings in the real world. When viewers know what manipulation feels like, they don’t need to rely on checklists, professional diagnoses, or gender differences to protect themselves from predacious people. (To read part 1 of this series, about gender differences in psychopathy, click here.)

    Top 10 Female Psychopaths on Film
    *Some spoilers ahead*

    10. "Motherly" (Craig David Wallace, 2022)
    This film is best left unspoiled. While imperfect in some ways, the film does offer a final act that upends viewers' expectations about who the real psychopath is in any given situation.

    Lora Burke and Kristen MacCulloch in Craig David Wallace's
    Lora Burke and Kristen MacCulloch in Craig David Wallace's "Motherly" (2021).

    9. "The Stylist" (Jill Gevargizian, 2020)
    Claire (Najarra Townsend) is an isolated hair stylist with a killer obsession. She uses her unique skills to scalp unwitting clients, later wearing their hair in front of a mirror to boost her low self-esteem.

    Claire’s psychopathy is sympathetic: she’s socially awkward, desperately lonely, and eager for belonging. Her sexuality is almost non-existent. Instead, Claire craves an idealized romantic or friendship connection in a way that aligns with recent scholarship on female psychopathy. Claire may not break the “female psychopath” mold, but she’s a memorable representative example nonetheless.

    Najarra Townsend and Brea Grant in Jill Gevargizian's
    Najarra Townsend and Brea Grant in Jill Gevargizian's "The Stylist" (2020).

    8. "Sissy" (Hannah Barlow and Kane Senes, 2022)
    "Sissy" is a film that will keep viewers guessing throughout its runtime. Aisha Dee’s hilarious and heartfelt portrayal of a Black wellness influencer plagued by recognizable struggles like imposter syndrome and social anxiety initially invites viewers into Sissy’s point of view. We see Sissy as a victim because Sissy sees herself as one—until, that is, she reconnects with a childhood friend.

    Her friend invites Sissy to her engagement party, along with a hostile friend group filled with queers, disabled folks, and people of color, when things go awry. This film more than any other on this list takes great pleasure in challenging viewers’ expectations about wellness, race, gender, sexuality, and ability, speaking directly to the issues of our time.
    Aisha Dee in Hannah Barlow and Kane Senes's
    Aisha Dee in Hannah Barlow and Kane Senes's "Sissy" (2022).

    7. "What Keeps You Alive" (Colin Minihan, 2018)
    In a classic horror set-up, wives Jules (Brittany Allen) and Jackie (Hannah Emily Anderson) spend their wedding anniversary in a remote cabin in the woods. When Jackie’s childhood friend shows up unannounced, Jules finds herself worried about how little she seems to know about her wife. Little white lies start adding up, and soon Jules discovers the truth.

    Jackie’s character is a poster child for the argument that psychopaths are born, not made. Jackie even says that it's “nature, not nurture” that she behaves in such callous, violent ways. After capturing her recently escaped wife, Jackie holds Jules’ fingers to her pulse. She demands Jules count her heartbeats. Jules, drenched in sweat, tears, and blood, cries and pants as she realizes Jackie’s heartbeat is steady.

    Jackie is teaching Jules (and the audience) that typical fight-or-flight responses for organisms in life-or-death scenarios can’t touch a psychopath’s nervous system. Jackie isn’t coded as psychopathic because she has unstable emotions, high anxiety, or covert forms of aggression, as research psychologists would suggest. Instead, it’s her biology that’s psychopathic.

    This film could have done more to explore the psychological and emotional manipulation that typifies psychopathy rather than relying on biology alone to account for psychopathic behavior. That said, it’s a nice surprise that Jackie’s queerness has nothing to do with her psychopathy.

    Brittany Allen and Hannah Emily Anderson in Colin Minihan's
    Brittany Allen and Hannah Emily Anderson in Colin Minihan's "What Keeps You Alive" (2018).

    6. "Speak No Evil" (Christian Tafdrup, 2022)

    I would categorize "Speak No Evil" as “hard to watch.” The film follows a Danish couple who visits a Dutch couple they met on vacation. What follows is a black social satire about the ways face-saving social niceties can keep people trapped within the snares of psychopaths all too willing to exploit people’s inability to say “no” for fear of social rejection.

    In many films with murderous couples, the male character is usually portrayed as the “true” psychopath while the woman is cast as a brainwashed victim. Here, however, the psychopathic characters are on equal footing. Take caution when watching: This film is mean (and eminently watchable).

    Morten Burian and Fedja van Huêt in Christian Tafdrup's
    Morten Burian and Fedja van Huêt in Christian Tafdrup's "Speak No Evil" (2022).

    5. "M3GAN" (Gerard Johnstone, 2023)

    "M3GAN" was a late entry to this list, mostly because the psychopath under consideration was neither male nor female, but silicon.

    The black horror comedy—and queer cultural sensation—follows a family beset by grief. A young girl loses both her parents in a car crash. Her workaholic aunt takes her in but, distracted by the demands of her job, doesn’t have the maternal skills required to help her niece heal. The aunt creates M3GAN, an AI robot toy, to protect her niece’s physical and emotional health. M3GAN takes this directive seriously, with deadly consequences.

    What elevates "M3GAN" from camp to horror is the doll’s desire to manipulate her victims before death. Before a kill, M3GAN gives dispassionate evaluations of her victims that are a hallmark of psychopathic manipulation. She destroys her victims emotionally before the final visceral kill.

    Still from Gerard Johnstone's
    Still from Gerard Johnstone's "M3GAN" (2023).

    4. "Titane" (Julia Ducournau, 2021)

    This French language film from Julia Ducournau still has me scratching my head. The striking use of mise-en-scene, lighting, and dream-like sequences create a hallucinogenic atmosphere as viewers follow the exploits of a murderous psychopathic woman who enjoys having sex with muscle cars.

    Agathe Rousselle plays Alexia, a woman who goes on the run after a murder spree puts her in the crosshairs of law enforcement. To escape, she transforms her appearance to look like a young boy that went missing a decade earlier.

    This gender swap is less about Alexia dismantling gender norms by living life as a man and more about how she views her body as a hunk of matter that must be molded like clay. She tapes down her breasts, bloodies and breaks her nose, and hides her pregnancy belly to survive, not to say anything political about how gender is a social construct. Her psychopathy overrides her gender at every stage.

    Agathe Rousselle and Vincent Lindon in Julia Ducournau
    Agathe Rousselle and Vincent Lindon in Julia Ducournau "Titane" (2021).

    3. "Pearl" (Ti West, 2022)

    There’s a final scene in the film where Pearl (played by the ferocious Mia Goth, who co-wrote the film) stares directly into the camera. We’ve seen her commit atrocities for the past two hours, yet Goth’s emotional range compels us to feel sympathy and understanding for Pearl’s actions.

    The scene is a long take. Goth’s face transforms into several deranged expressions that almost look human. I read this final scene as a beautiful articulation of the psychopathic “mask,” that is, the image psychopaths present to those in their orbit.

    What Goth so powerfully shows is that a psychopathic individual is a chameleon in social situations. If a neighbor wants to believe she’s a helpless victim, that’s the role Pearl plays. If a love interest sees her as an innocent lamb, that’s the role Pearl plays.

    This final scene shows what happens when there’s no one left for Pearl to mimic. She’s a series of surface emotions that glide across her face but aren’t anchored to anything below.

    Still of Mia Goth in Ti West's
    Still of Mia Goth in Ti West's "Pear" (2022).

    2. "Possessor" (Brandon Cronenberg, 2020)

    Brandon Cronenberg’s "Possessor" is challenging to summarize. The sci-fi film uses hallucinatory sequences to depict how assassins in an alternate reality hijack the body of an unsuspecting victim to cause that person to murder a target.

    Andrea Riseborough’s performance as assassin Tasya Vos is decidedly un-gendered. She’s numb, save for opportunities to kill. Her boss, played by Jennifer Jason Leigh, has her own brand of psychopathy that makes for a compelling duo.

    The most striking aspects of this film occur when Vos is inside the head of one of her victims, played by Christopher Abbot. The scene captures what happens when a psychopath attempts to hijack a person’s sense of self. Sound distorts, colors blur, and bodies enmesh within one another such that easy distinctions between Vos and her victim become indiscernible. Vos even dons a grotesque mask that looks like skin melting off her face.

    The disquieting imagery and silent dance between these two characters get at something about psychopathic manipulation that’s difficult, if not impossible, to put into words. The dream-like logic of this scene provides affect rather than rationale. Viewers feel discomfort, confusion, and disorientation in our attempts to understand what’s happening. Like Vos’ victim, we end up succumbing to dissociation and defeat.

    Still of Andrea Riseborough in Brandon Cronenberg's
    Still of Andrea Riseborough in Brandon Cronenberg's "Possessor" (2020).
    1. "Soft & Quiet" (Beth de Araújo, 2022)

    "Soft & Quiet" played on my expectations about white women to such a degree that my mouth was on the floor for most of it. Unlike "Titane" or "Possessor," this film is firmly grounded within the reality of everyday life in the U.S. The editing makes it feel as though it was shot in one long take, giving it an urgent, real-time quality.

    The film highlights how white women enact white supremacy with just as much ferocity and vitriol as any other gender, albeit with a twist.

    The film begins with women gathering for a female empowerment group for overworked suburban women looking to find connection outside their roles as wives, mothers, and teachers. They use language from feminism to articulate the ways suburban norms isolate women from support, leading to low self-worth and self-efficacy. The gonzo violence that follows is shocking given how these women use their whiteness and femininity as a smokescreen for their racist agenda.

    What’s more, the film gives the viewer insight into the difference between strictly narcissistic characters and psychopathic characters. A narcissistic character, for instance, initially takes on a leadership role in the group. Viewers are led to believe she’ll be the most violent when given the chance. Viewer expectations are upset, however, once the violence reaches a fever pitch. Suddenly the narcissistic leader dissolves into a small child. She begins to dissociate. Shaky camera movements, sound distortions, and strange camera angles work to capture her disorientation.

    A psychopathic character, on the other hand, is initially introduced as less put together than the leader of the group. But once in the throes of violence, she’s enthralled. The camera keeps focus on her without distortion, suggesting this character doesn’t want or need to dissociate from the violent spectacle. This quality of presence while enacting horrific violence, to me, differentiates a person with narcissism from one with psychopathy.

    Final Words
    These films ask viewers to look beneath surface appearances of how someone presents to reflect on what they feel when in the presence of a predator. Personally, the moment I begin to feel chronic confusion, dissociation, nausea, shock, or betrayal, I know it’s time to walk away, gender be damned.
    PSYCHOPATHY- 10 Films/Movies That Help Explain Female Psychopaths. A Personal Perspective: 10 films offer fresh takes on psychopathic manipulation. Reviewed by Devon Frye KEY POINTS- Female psychopathy may be more complex than research psychologists suggest. Ten recent films bring nuance to discussions about gender and psychopathy. Film can give viewers insight into what psychopathic manipulation feels like. The best films about psychopathy behave psychopathically towards viewers. The best films about psychopaths, female or otherwise, behave like psychopaths—that is, they actively manipulate a viewer using film techniques that cause a viewer to feel betrayed. A “psychopathic film,” I argue, uses film techniques like flashbacks, unreliable narrators, and mise-en-scene to give viewers a visceral experience of manipulation. These films titrate manageable feelings of betrayal for viewers so that they may recognize these feelings in the real world. When viewers know what manipulation feels like, they don’t need to rely on checklists, professional diagnoses, or gender differences to protect themselves from predacious people. (To read part 1 of this series, about gender differences in psychopathy, click here.) Top 10 Female Psychopaths on Film *Some spoilers ahead* 10. "Motherly" (Craig David Wallace, 2022) This film is best left unspoiled. While imperfect in some ways, the film does offer a final act that upends viewers' expectations about who the real psychopath is in any given situation. Lora Burke and Kristen MacCulloch in Craig David Wallace's Lora Burke and Kristen MacCulloch in Craig David Wallace's "Motherly" (2021). 9. "The Stylist" (Jill Gevargizian, 2020) Claire (Najarra Townsend) is an isolated hair stylist with a killer obsession. She uses her unique skills to scalp unwitting clients, later wearing their hair in front of a mirror to boost her low self-esteem. Claire’s psychopathy is sympathetic: she’s socially awkward, desperately lonely, and eager for belonging. Her sexuality is almost non-existent. Instead, Claire craves an idealized romantic or friendship connection in a way that aligns with recent scholarship on female psychopathy. Claire may not break the “female psychopath” mold, but she’s a memorable representative example nonetheless. Najarra Townsend and Brea Grant in Jill Gevargizian's Najarra Townsend and Brea Grant in Jill Gevargizian's "The Stylist" (2020). 8. "Sissy" (Hannah Barlow and Kane Senes, 2022) "Sissy" is a film that will keep viewers guessing throughout its runtime. Aisha Dee’s hilarious and heartfelt portrayal of a Black wellness influencer plagued by recognizable struggles like imposter syndrome and social anxiety initially invites viewers into Sissy’s point of view. We see Sissy as a victim because Sissy sees herself as one—until, that is, she reconnects with a childhood friend. Her friend invites Sissy to her engagement party, along with a hostile friend group filled with queers, disabled folks, and people of color, when things go awry. This film more than any other on this list takes great pleasure in challenging viewers’ expectations about wellness, race, gender, sexuality, and ability, speaking directly to the issues of our time. Aisha Dee in Hannah Barlow and Kane Senes's Aisha Dee in Hannah Barlow and Kane Senes's "Sissy" (2022). 7. "What Keeps You Alive" (Colin Minihan, 2018) In a classic horror set-up, wives Jules (Brittany Allen) and Jackie (Hannah Emily Anderson) spend their wedding anniversary in a remote cabin in the woods. When Jackie’s childhood friend shows up unannounced, Jules finds herself worried about how little she seems to know about her wife. Little white lies start adding up, and soon Jules discovers the truth. Jackie’s character is a poster child for the argument that psychopaths are born, not made. Jackie even says that it's “nature, not nurture” that she behaves in such callous, violent ways. After capturing her recently escaped wife, Jackie holds Jules’ fingers to her pulse. She demands Jules count her heartbeats. Jules, drenched in sweat, tears, and blood, cries and pants as she realizes Jackie’s heartbeat is steady. Jackie is teaching Jules (and the audience) that typical fight-or-flight responses for organisms in life-or-death scenarios can’t touch a psychopath’s nervous system. Jackie isn’t coded as psychopathic because she has unstable emotions, high anxiety, or covert forms of aggression, as research psychologists would suggest. Instead, it’s her biology that’s psychopathic. This film could have done more to explore the psychological and emotional manipulation that typifies psychopathy rather than relying on biology alone to account for psychopathic behavior. That said, it’s a nice surprise that Jackie’s queerness has nothing to do with her psychopathy. Brittany Allen and Hannah Emily Anderson in Colin Minihan's Brittany Allen and Hannah Emily Anderson in Colin Minihan's "What Keeps You Alive" (2018). 6. "Speak No Evil" (Christian Tafdrup, 2022) I would categorize "Speak No Evil" as “hard to watch.” The film follows a Danish couple who visits a Dutch couple they met on vacation. What follows is a black social satire about the ways face-saving social niceties can keep people trapped within the snares of psychopaths all too willing to exploit people’s inability to say “no” for fear of social rejection. In many films with murderous couples, the male character is usually portrayed as the “true” psychopath while the woman is cast as a brainwashed victim. Here, however, the psychopathic characters are on equal footing. Take caution when watching: This film is mean (and eminently watchable). Morten Burian and Fedja van Huêt in Christian Tafdrup's Morten Burian and Fedja van Huêt in Christian Tafdrup's "Speak No Evil" (2022). 5. "M3GAN" (Gerard Johnstone, 2023) "M3GAN" was a late entry to this list, mostly because the psychopath under consideration was neither male nor female, but silicon. The black horror comedy—and queer cultural sensation—follows a family beset by grief. A young girl loses both her parents in a car crash. Her workaholic aunt takes her in but, distracted by the demands of her job, doesn’t have the maternal skills required to help her niece heal. The aunt creates M3GAN, an AI robot toy, to protect her niece’s physical and emotional health. M3GAN takes this directive seriously, with deadly consequences. What elevates "M3GAN" from camp to horror is the doll’s desire to manipulate her victims before death. Before a kill, M3GAN gives dispassionate evaluations of her victims that are a hallmark of psychopathic manipulation. She destroys her victims emotionally before the final visceral kill. Still from Gerard Johnstone's Still from Gerard Johnstone's "M3GAN" (2023). 4. "Titane" (Julia Ducournau, 2021) This French language film from Julia Ducournau still has me scratching my head. The striking use of mise-en-scene, lighting, and dream-like sequences create a hallucinogenic atmosphere as viewers follow the exploits of a murderous psychopathic woman who enjoys having sex with muscle cars. Agathe Rousselle plays Alexia, a woman who goes on the run after a murder spree puts her in the crosshairs of law enforcement. To escape, she transforms her appearance to look like a young boy that went missing a decade earlier. This gender swap is less about Alexia dismantling gender norms by living life as a man and more about how she views her body as a hunk of matter that must be molded like clay. She tapes down her breasts, bloodies and breaks her nose, and hides her pregnancy belly to survive, not to say anything political about how gender is a social construct. Her psychopathy overrides her gender at every stage. Agathe Rousselle and Vincent Lindon in Julia Ducournau Agathe Rousselle and Vincent Lindon in Julia Ducournau "Titane" (2021). 3. "Pearl" (Ti West, 2022) There’s a final scene in the film where Pearl (played by the ferocious Mia Goth, who co-wrote the film) stares directly into the camera. We’ve seen her commit atrocities for the past two hours, yet Goth’s emotional range compels us to feel sympathy and understanding for Pearl’s actions. The scene is a long take. Goth’s face transforms into several deranged expressions that almost look human. I read this final scene as a beautiful articulation of the psychopathic “mask,” that is, the image psychopaths present to those in their orbit. What Goth so powerfully shows is that a psychopathic individual is a chameleon in social situations. If a neighbor wants to believe she’s a helpless victim, that’s the role Pearl plays. If a love interest sees her as an innocent lamb, that’s the role Pearl plays. This final scene shows what happens when there’s no one left for Pearl to mimic. She’s a series of surface emotions that glide across her face but aren’t anchored to anything below. Still of Mia Goth in Ti West's Still of Mia Goth in Ti West's "Pear" (2022). 2. "Possessor" (Brandon Cronenberg, 2020) Brandon Cronenberg’s "Possessor" is challenging to summarize. The sci-fi film uses hallucinatory sequences to depict how assassins in an alternate reality hijack the body of an unsuspecting victim to cause that person to murder a target. Andrea Riseborough’s performance as assassin Tasya Vos is decidedly un-gendered. She’s numb, save for opportunities to kill. Her boss, played by Jennifer Jason Leigh, has her own brand of psychopathy that makes for a compelling duo. The most striking aspects of this film occur when Vos is inside the head of one of her victims, played by Christopher Abbot. The scene captures what happens when a psychopath attempts to hijack a person’s sense of self. Sound distorts, colors blur, and bodies enmesh within one another such that easy distinctions between Vos and her victim become indiscernible. Vos even dons a grotesque mask that looks like skin melting off her face. The disquieting imagery and silent dance between these two characters get at something about psychopathic manipulation that’s difficult, if not impossible, to put into words. The dream-like logic of this scene provides affect rather than rationale. Viewers feel discomfort, confusion, and disorientation in our attempts to understand what’s happening. Like Vos’ victim, we end up succumbing to dissociation and defeat. Still of Andrea Riseborough in Brandon Cronenberg's Still of Andrea Riseborough in Brandon Cronenberg's "Possessor" (2020). 1. "Soft & Quiet" (Beth de Araújo, 2022) "Soft & Quiet" played on my expectations about white women to such a degree that my mouth was on the floor for most of it. Unlike "Titane" or "Possessor," this film is firmly grounded within the reality of everyday life in the U.S. The editing makes it feel as though it was shot in one long take, giving it an urgent, real-time quality. The film highlights how white women enact white supremacy with just as much ferocity and vitriol as any other gender, albeit with a twist. The film begins with women gathering for a female empowerment group for overworked suburban women looking to find connection outside their roles as wives, mothers, and teachers. They use language from feminism to articulate the ways suburban norms isolate women from support, leading to low self-worth and self-efficacy. The gonzo violence that follows is shocking given how these women use their whiteness and femininity as a smokescreen for their racist agenda. What’s more, the film gives the viewer insight into the difference between strictly narcissistic characters and psychopathic characters. A narcissistic character, for instance, initially takes on a leadership role in the group. Viewers are led to believe she’ll be the most violent when given the chance. Viewer expectations are upset, however, once the violence reaches a fever pitch. Suddenly the narcissistic leader dissolves into a small child. She begins to dissociate. Shaky camera movements, sound distortions, and strange camera angles work to capture her disorientation. A psychopathic character, on the other hand, is initially introduced as less put together than the leader of the group. But once in the throes of violence, she’s enthralled. The camera keeps focus on her without distortion, suggesting this character doesn’t want or need to dissociate from the violent spectacle. This quality of presence while enacting horrific violence, to me, differentiates a person with narcissism from one with psychopathy. Final Words These films ask viewers to look beneath surface appearances of how someone presents to reflect on what they feel when in the presence of a predator. Personally, the moment I begin to feel chronic confusion, dissociation, nausea, shock, or betrayal, I know it’s time to walk away, gender be damned.
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