[Coursework Essay 2019]: Masculinity in Contemporary French Action Cinema

The following is a slightly edited version of one of my pieces of written coursework from my undergraduate university studies. I have posted it here with a slightly altered title alongside my later works for the purpose of showing the development of my academic research and writing skills.

I wrote and submitted the original version of this essay for university coursework in 2019.

Please note: this essay uses the term “queer” in the academic sense (as in Queer Theory) and uses the LGBTQ+ acronym when refering to queer characters not to conflate differing LGBTQ+ identities but to avoid any potential erasure of those identities.

Content Warning: this essay features occasional references to homophobia, transphobia (including homophobic and transphobic slurs) and sexism.

Introduction: Legitimising the Corpus

A prerequisite to discussing a popular national cinema is the task of proving one’s chosen corpus as such. The specificities of the corpus under discussion (genre, nationality, date) each fulfil a necessary function in legitimising contemporary French action films as both a popular and a national cinema. The action genre is tacit in its levels of global popularity and success; of the two hundred highest-grossing films worldwide to date, well over half fall into the action genre (Box Office Mojo, no date). Of course, as V.F. Perkins (1992) asserts, box office alone is an incomplete barometer by which to measure popularity since commercial success does not necessarily suggest an appeal to the sensibilities of mass culture (pp. 195-196). However, many of the all-time highest-grossing action films are also superhero films, dating as far back as Spider-Man (Raimi, 2002) and with Avengers: Endgame (Russos, 2019) taking the number one spot.

The proliferation of this superhero genre cycle and its commercial success spanning several decades can, therefore, attest to (at least an) action cinema’s mass appeal. Regarding nationality and date, this case study aims to determine if the corpus in question can serve to diversify the worldwide status of French cinema and challenge Hollywood’s alleged monopoly on the action genre. Crucially, my main area of focus is the portrayals of masculinity in these films which will involve the question of how straight, cisgender men under patriarchy behave towards and perceive both women and LGBTQ+ people. These are all modern concerns, hence the decision to focus the corpus on the contemporary. If, as Perkins believes, the mark of popularity is being characterised as a cinema “of the people” (1992, p. 196), a contemporary popular national cinema should ideally address relevant issues and resonate with the values of modern society.

 

Transnational Generic Hybridity

Contemporary French action films pose an intriguing question about the specificity of a national cinema. Several of the most prolific films involving the Luc Besson-founded company EuropaCorp are co-productions with stars and funding from various parts of Europe, North America, and Asia, including but not limited to Unleashed (Danny the Dog, Leterrier, 2005), Brick Mansions (Delamarre, 2014), Lucy (Besson, 2014). Franchises like Taken (Morel and Megaton, 2008-2014) and Le Transporteur (The Transporter, Various, 2002-2015) gained much financial support from one of Hollywood’s biggest companies, Twentieth Century Fox and became emblematic of their respective stars’ (Liam Neeson and Jason Statham) careers. Films such as these denote a trend in European cinema of recent decades where transnational co-productions have become increasingly common. One can interpret this shift towards co-production as an extension of the contradictions in how political institutions define European identity, with “the liberal demand to recognise and celebrate diversity and the essentialist need to hold on to an imagined centre” (Eleftheriotis, 2001, p. 47).

French action cinema’s generic specificity manifests in parkour: the athletic, rapid, and “unconventional” movement of practitioners through urban landscapes (Purse, 2011, pp. 176-178). Parkour is a prominent feature of several French action films including Taxi 2 (Krawczyk, 2000), Yamakasi – Les samouraïs des temps modernes (Yamakasi, (Zeitoun and Seri, 2001), and Banlieue 13 (District 13, (Morel, 2004). Its popularity in France has even caught Hollywood’s attention with parkour references in many of their blockbusters including Casino Royale (Campbell, 2006), Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (Newell, 2010), and G.I. Joe: Retaliation (Chu, 2013). Given its depiction of athletic, expressive practitioners running free and unhindered by the modernist trappings of the city, parkour can read as an articulation of personal liberation. David Pettersen (2014) writes: “With its roots in the French banlieue, parkour combines an autochthonous sense of Frenchness, a countercultural street credibility, and a social conscience” (p. 36). Damien in Banlieue 13 and the French President in its sequel Banlieue 13: Ultimatum (Alessandrin, 2009) even recite the French national values of “liberté, égalité, fraternité” (“liberty, equality, fraternity”). Says Pettersen:

The director, Pierre Morel, decided to use a combination of Asian martial arts forms, American sci-fi and action film conventions, and an indigenous French movement vocabulary to articulate a more hopeful vision than one would typically see in French banlieue cinema. Parkour, in Banlieue 13, becomes a literal and figurative means of liberation both for the banlieusards and for French genre cinema (p. 36).

There is a gymnastic theatricality to parkour that, as Pettersen says of Banlieue 13, is highly reminiscent of Asian martial arts cinema which has its roots in Peking opera. Yuen Sai-shing (2005) cites an interview with action choreographer Tong Kai who trained as a martial artist under Peking opera actor Yuen Siu-tin. The interview “reveals the connection between Chinese opera and action cinema: the skill and concept of the action choreography of the martial artists comes from their training and knowledge of Chinese opera” (pp. 24-25). Analysing Banlieue 13, Lisa Purse (2011) notes references to traditions of Hong Kong martial arts, Chinese triad, and Japanese yakuza films (p. 182). And it is no accident that famed Chinese actor and martial artist Jet Li stars in Le Baiser mortel du dragon (Kiss of the Dragon, (Nahon, 2001) and Unleashed, the latter with prolific Hong Kong director Yuen Woo-Ping working as martial arts choreographer. Corey Yuen was the co-director and action choreographer on Le Transporteur (Yuen and Leterrier, 2002) and was the martial arts choreographer on the two sequels. Each of these films, in addition to their Asian collaborators, feature references to Hong Kong martial arts, emphasising this Franco-Asian connection.

The Franco-American connection manifests in the recurring presence of car chases, gunfights, romantic subplots, and the male central protagonists. From Le Cinquième Élément (The Fifth Element, (Besson, 1997) and Taxi (Pirès, 1998) to Le Transporteur and Unleashed, Hollywood traditions abound in these films. In the Transporteur franchise, this culminates in a remarkably Bondesque aesthetic; Frank Martin wears debonair suits, drives prestige brand cars (including, like James Bond, a BMW), and periodically spouts humorous one-liners. For example, he says to a teenage carjacker in Le Transporteur 2 (Leterrier, 2005): “Don’t you have homework to do? Why don’t you go and do it?” Symbolic of French action cinema’s transnationalism is the synthesis of Asian and Hollywood action film conventions in EuropaCorp productions. One can interpret the generic transnationalism of these productions as a form of diversity, one which, in its bricolage of varying cultural artefacts (Bondesque, Hong Kong martial arts, parkour) suggests a possibility of diversity in the cultural values it seeks to reflect, thus earning its stature as a progressive contemporary cinema.

 

Luc Besson and the Oedipal Trajectory

Integral to studies of the gender relations of mainstream Hollywood narratives is the Oedipal trajectory, a psychoanalytical model for the transition of the male hero into manhood. According to Nick Lacey’s (2005) description, the model “requires the boy to move his sexual fixation from his mother toward a mother substitute so he can become like his father” (pp. 90-91). Oedipal narrative structures rely on patriarchal definitions of gender that, even if depicting transgression, conclude with the restoration of the cisheteronormative nuclear family (Elsaesser and Buckland, 2002, p. 223), the father-mother-child trichotomy of the Oedipal “triangle” (Gabbard, 2004, p. 7). Lacey adds:

The movement toward heterosexual ‘coupledom’, with the woman in the subordinate position, allows transgression to be portrayed only to be ‘earthed’ in convention […] So difference is dramatized in order to be rejected in favour of conformity (p. 91).

In its emulation of Hollywood with its action blockbuster traditions, so too French action cinema risks joining in the reactionary practice of foregrounding male desires and reinforcing traditionally masculine perspectives as the default. Althought, Susan Hayward (1998) describes the films of Luc Besson as “repetitively counter-Oedipal (not one protagonist gets to fulfil the trajectory successfully […] these films question the necessity of Oedipus, the union of sexuality and the nuclear familial complex” (p. 147). Hayward cites the lack of mothers in La Femme Nikita (Besson, 1990) and Léon: The Professional (Besson, 1994), and the father-surrogates in Le Dernier Combat (The Last Battle, (Besson, 1983) and Subway (Besson, 1985). This absence of the family, says Hayward, means that the Oedipal trajectory is incomplete and the triangle, therefore, a non-presence:

[T]he triangle does not exist for the most part in a Besson film […] Within a reading that forefronts the concept of Oedipus and the desiring economy, Besson’s narratives stand as a refusal to reproduce (either the family or capital) (p. 153).

There are exceptions in Besson’s later filmography. In Taxi, which Besson wrote, secondary protagonist Émilien substitutes his overbearing mother Camille for the object of his sexual fixation, his co-worker Sergeant Petra. The previous year Besson directed Le Cinquième Élément, which Hayward acknowledges (p. 179). Its protagonist Korben Dallas substitutes his nagging mother with Leeloo to whom he makes love at the end. Korben occasionally displays moderate “feminine” attributes at odds with hypermasculine expectations; he owns a cat (often a stereotype of women) and is emotionally vulnerable while confessing his love for a dying Leeloo. But by forming the two as a couple, the narrative’s conclusion rejects these transgressions in favour of valorising machismo through Korben’s sexual fulfilment.

In the Besson-scripted Unleashed, Danny’s mother is absent and loan shark Bart is initially his father-surrogate (albeit a highly abusive one). Later, Danny leaves Bart’s world of underground deathmatches for a life of domestic tranquillity with pianist Sam and his stepdaughter Victoria; Danny eventually substitutes his absent mother for a female romantic interest. He does not become like Bart, however, because he abandons Bart’s violent criminal underworld and unlike Bart who uses women only for sex, Danny’s relationship with Victoria is compassionate and endearing rather than sexual. He instead becomes like Sam, his new father-surrogate: domestic, empathetic, the antithesis of hypermasculine expectations.

 

Banlieue 13, Taxi, and Toxic Masculinity

The ways in which straight, cisgender men interact with and perceive women and LGBTQ+ people are a crucial aspect of cultural ideals about masculinity. Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick (1990, pp. 184-186) details the harmful ramifications of “homosexual panic” on male homosocial relations:

If such compulsory relationships as male friendship, mentorship, admiring identification, bureaucratic subordination, and heterosexual rivalry all involve forms of investment that force men into the arbitrarily mapped, self-contradictory, and anathema-riddled quicksands of the middle distance of male homosocial desire, then it appears that men enter into adult masculine entitlement only through acceding to the permanent threat that the small space they have cleared for themselves on this terrain may always, just as arbitrarily and with just as much justification, be foreclosed (p. 186).

The hypermasculine expectations of patriarchy socialise straight, cisgender men – for fear of being perceived feminine or gay – into asserting their masculinity through domination of women and competitive violence against ostensibly “weaker” men, especially if they are LGBTQ+ (or perceived as such), as an expression of fear and intolerance of queerness. This would explain the toxic patriarchal definitions of masculinity in terms of “aggression, power, and control” (Neale, 2006, p. 11) that inhibit men’s emotional range and lead to male homosocial violence. Paul Williemen (2005) claims all Hollywood genres that reflect notions of male brutality and domination in some way concern themselves with masculinity and gender demarcation. Even moderate notions of traditional femininity, when at all present, are a mere justification to celebrate that hypermasculine brutality and domination (pp. 228-229).

Homophobia (and transphobia) takes a slightly subtler form in the use of stereotypes and slurs. The androgynous Ruby Rhod in Le Cinquième Élément is an effete, loud, comedic stereotype of gay men designed to contrast with Korben’ courage and machismo. K2, a henchman of gang leader Taha in Banlieue 13, mocks rival gang members by calling them “fags”. Likewise, in the sequel Banlieue 13: Ultimatum, police officer Damien goes undercover as an erotic dancer to catch a drug dealer, Mr Woo. Woo and his clients belittle Damien for his cross-dressing disguise calling him a “tranny”. But unlike the characterisation of Ruby which frames queerness in the negative, Banlieue 13 and Ultimatum frame homophobia and transphobia in the negative; they are the traits of villainous males who either redeem themselves by siding with the protagonists (K2) or suffer punishment for their criminality (Woo).

Taxi features a more ironic representation of toxic masculinity. Émilien wins over his crush Sergeant Petra by barging shirtless into her office, pulling her into a passionate embrace over her table, and simultaneously squeezing her chest. Unlike Banlieue 13 when Taha’s gang members, having abducted Lola, objectify her with unsolicited touching and whistling, Émilien’s sexual conquest of Petra is humorous in tone and has the romantic connotations of “our hero getting the girl”. Applying Laura Mulvey’s (1975) concept of the male gaze, Steve Neale (2006) argues that a male spectator’s identification with male heroes involves the narcissistic fulfilment of power fantasies:

Inasmuch as films do involve gender identification, and inasmuch as current ideologies of masculinity involve so centrally notions and attitudes to do with aggression, power, and control, it seems to me that narcissism and narcissistic identification may be especially significant (Neale, 2006, p. 11).

Patriarchal images of masculinity generate feelings of omnipotence: through the male spectator’s active voyeuristic gaze, the active male narrative agent becomes a reflection of the viewer’s masculine power (Mulvey, 1975, p. 12). Curiously, though, in continuing the treatment of women as part of masculine constructs, Taxi self-reflexively uses voyeurism to comment upon Émilien’s scopophilia. By having the camera adopt his point of view to gaze at and fetishise Petra’s body, the film subtly reveals its construction of masculinity – as defined by men’s perversity towards, and objectification of, women. Banlieue 13 uses the same technique, but only with the villainous gang members – a characterisation method to make the audience want to see them punished – while Taxi suggests this kind of perversity in a heroic police detective, reflecting the film’s awareness of the viewer’s fetishistic gaze.

 

Le Transporteur: Queering Frank Martin

What the gay stereotyping of Ruby in Le Cinquième Élément symbolises is a strategy of patriarchal narratives to continuously other LGBTQ+ people and reinforce cisheterosexual masculinity as a conventional, “superior” form of masculinity. Judith Butler (2006) writes:

Even when gender seems to congeal into the most reified forms, the “congealing” is itself an insistent and insidious practice, sustained and regulated by various social means […] Gender is the repeated stylisation of the body, a set of repeated acts within a highly rigid regulatory frame that congeal over time to produce the appearance of substance, of a natural sort of being (p. 45).

The lack of openly gay action heroes in mainstream cinema can attest to this. Lisa Purse (2011) argues that the assumption that an openly gay action hero is impossible “seems to find its validation when one surveys the landscape of contemporary US action cinema” (p. 132). Purse claims that, barring Alexander (Stone, 2004) and Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (Black, 2005), “there are no openly gay action heroes”. This should not, however, imply a total impossibility of gender fluidity in straight, cisgender action heroes.

One such hero that opens this possibility is Frank Martin of the Luc Besson-produced Transporteur films. To “queer” Frank is to read the character through an LGBTQ+ lens to determine if he challenges the heteronormative images of masculinity so pervasive in action cinema. Firstly, to expand upon the prior attribution of Bondesque, there is the issue of costuming as expressing the assignment of gender roles. Phil Powrie (2006) interprets black and white suits in Besson’s films as symbolic of differing masculine ideals:

The white suit connotes power and confidence, while the black suit connotes developing rebelliousness and its correlate, high style, associated with high class, exploding under the pressure of repression into the casual associated with lower class or lumpen egalitarianism (p. 79).

Despite his insistence on efficiency and the maintenance of his “rules”, Frank rebels in Le Transporteur when he opens the “package” he is to deliver, revealing an abducted woman named Lai; he rebels again when he escapes false imprisonment and fights to rescue Lai from her human trafficker father Kwai. By Powrie’s assertion, Frank’s transition from “high class” suit to “lower class” casual would connote his shift towards rebelliousness. Likewise, in Le Transporteur 3 (Megaton, 2008), Frank rebels against Ecocorp boss Johnson who is forcing him to take Valentina to Budapest by going off-course to get his explosive bracelet removed. Halfway through the film, Valentina forces Frank to do a striptease for her in exchange for returning his keys; the removal of the suit (and later casual attire when fighting to save Valentina) traces Frank’s rebellion against Johnson’s repressive manipulation of him. Over the course of these films, Frank crosses between two masculine constructs: one of sophistication and efficiency, the other of aggressive force and machismo.

While fighting against Kwai’s associates in Le Transporteur, Frank’s shirt gets ripped off and he uses it as a weapon before he and his opponents become doused in oil during the battle. Frank then must survive drowning underwater by sucking oxygen from another man’s mouth which resembles same-sex kissing. All of this can be read as a performance of gender fluidity; one which, in contrast to typical masculine constructs that disavow and repress male eroticisation and queerness (Neale, 2006, p. 19), instead foregrounds it in such a way that subverts those typical constructs. Purse (2011), in fact, relates Frank’s movements to “the fluid grace of the male tap dancer” and the oil fight to “the eroticised objectification of female mud wrestling” (p. 100-101). Though Frank is presumed to be straight – since he is seduced by women like Lai and Valentina – he expresses no anxiety about being (or being perceived to be) gay because of performances like those described above. He performs a range of masculinities while still being heroic, free of “homosexual panic.”

 

Conclusion: The Diversification of a Transnational Cinema

Richard Dyer and Ginette Vincendeau (1992) write that, “highly popular European films seldom travel well beyond their national boundaries; when they do […] they are generally repackaged for art cinemas” (p. 1). This ghettoising practice connotes a sentiment that, to the rest of the world, arthouse is European cinema’s only worthwhile export, which incentivises it to become overshadowed by the hegemonic dominance of Hollywood. With its action corpus, French cinema gains the opportunity to reclaim some of that popularity and transnational recognition. But to avoid propagating “the hitherto US-centrism of film history” by simply imitating Hollywood (Dyer and Vincendeau, 1992, p. 12), it faces the intricate challenge of legitimising its own specificity. If, as the parkour aesthetic suggests, it aims to do so by articulating the French values of liberté, égalité, and fraternité, then it will need to balance this expression of national identity with one of diversity alluded to in its transnational bricolage.

Regarding masculine constructions, the landscape of French action cinema offers a greater fluidity of male representation than one would necessarily expect from Hollywood. Films like Banlieue 13 and Taxi seem content with the male gaze as a tool for self-reflexive comment on how they view their male characters, and Korben of Le Cinquième Élément offers the traditionally feminine as mere subtleties in the masculine screen hero. Unleashed, by contrast, favours Danny’s escape from the toxic underground of competitive brutality to domestic tranquillity and freedom of emotional expression, foregrounding the ascent into manhood as being a move away from hypermasculinity rather than towards it. Meanwhile, Le Transporteur’s Frank Martin can entertain the possibility of queer performance and even objectification by a female voyeur (Valentina) while simultaneously being an agent of heroism and justice. This suggests that there is room in French action cinema for catering to the pleasures of female audiences and acceptance of LGBTQ+ representation; both of which, historically, the heteronormativity and phallocentrism of the genre have marginalised. It suggests the prospect for generic evolution reflective of progressive modern values.

 

Filmography

Alexander (2004). Directed by Oliver Stone [Film]. USA/UK/Germany/Netherlands/France/Italy/Morocco/Thailand: Warner Bros.

Avengers: Endgame (2019). Directed by Anthony Russo and Joe Russo [Film]. USA: Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures.

Banlieue 13/District 13 (2004). Directed by Pierre Morel [Film]. France: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

Banlieue 13: Ultimatum/District 13: Ultimatum (2009). Directed by Patrick Alessandrin [Film]. France: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

Brick Mansions (2014). Directed by Camille Delamarre [Film]. France/Canada/USA: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

Casino Royale (2006). Directed by Martin Campbell [Film]. UK/Czech Republic/USA/Germany/Bahamas: Sony Pictures Releasing.

Cinquième Élément, Le/The Fifth Element (1997). Directed by Luc Besson [Film]. France: Gaumont Buena Vista International (GBVI).

G.I. Joe: Retaliation (2013). Directed by Jon M. Chu [Film]. USA: Paramount Pictures.

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005). Directed by Shane Black [Film]. USA: Warner Bros.

La Femme Nikita (1990). Directed by Luc Besson [Film]. France/Italy: Gaumont.

Le Baiser mortel du dragon/Kiss of the Dragon (2001). Directed by Chris Nahon [Film]. France/USA: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

Le Dernier Combat/The Last Battle (1983). Directed by Luc Besson [Film]. France: Crystal Film.

Léon: The Professional (1994). Directed by Luc Besson [Film]. France: Gaumont Buena Vista International (GBVI).

Lucy (2014). Directed by Luc Besson [Film]. France/Germany/USA/Taiwan: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (2010). Directed by Mike Newell [Film]. USA: Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures.

Spider-Man (2002). Directed by Sam Raimi [Film]. USA: Columbia Pictures.

Subway (1985). Directed by Luc Besson [Film]. France: Gaumont.

Taxi (1998). Directed by Gérard Pirès [Film]. France: ARP Sélection.

Taxi 2 (2000). Directed by Gérard Krawczyk [Film]. France: ARP Sélection.

Transporteur, Le/The Transporter (2002). Directed by Corey Yuen and Louis Leterrier [Film]. France/USA: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

Transporteur 2, Le/Transporter 2 (2005). Directed by Louis Leterrier [Film]. France/USA/Germany: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

Transporteur 3, Le/Transporter 3 (2008). Directed by Olivier Megaton [Film]. France/USA/Ukraine: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

Unleashed/Danny the Dog (2005). Directed by Louis Leterrier [Film]. France/USA/UK: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

Yamakasi – Les samouraïs des temps modernes/Yamakasi (2001). Directed by Ariel Zeitoun and Julien Seri [Film]. France: EuropaCorp. Distribution.

 

Bibliography

Books:

Butler, J. (2006) Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. 3^rd edn. New York: Routledge.

Dyer, R. and Vincendeau, G. (1992) Popular European Cinema. London: Routledge.

Eleftheriotis, D. (2001) Popular Cinemas of Europe: Studies of Texts, Contexts and Frameworks. New York: Continuum.

Elsaesser, T. and Buckland, W. (2002) Studying Contemporary American Film: A Guide to Movie Analysis. New York: Arnold.

Gabbard, G. (2004) Long-Term Psychodynamic Psychotherapy: A Basic Text. Washington, D.C.: American Psychiatric Publishing, Inc.

Hayward, S. (1998) Luc Besson. Manchester: Manchester University Press.

Lacey, N. (2005) Introduction to Film. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

Purse, L. (2011) Contemporary Action Cinema. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.

Sedgwick, E. (1990) Epistemology of the Closet. Berkeley: University of California Press.

 

Chapters in Books:

Neale, S. (2006) ‘Masculinity as Spectacle: Reflections on Men in Mainstream Cinema’, in Cohan, S. and Hark, I. R. (eds.), Screening the Male: Exploring Masculinities in the Hollywood Cinema. London: Routledge, pp. 9-22.

Perkins, V.F. (1992) ‘The Atlantic divide’, in Dyer, R. and Vincendeau, G. (eds.) Popular European Cinema. London: Routledge, pp. 194-205.

Powrie, P. (2006) ‘Of suits and men in the films of Luc Besson’, in Hayward, S. and Powrie, P. (eds.) The Films of Luc Besson: Master of Spectacle. Manchester: Manchester University Press, pp. 75-89.

Sai-shing, Y. (2005) ‘Moving Body: The Interactions Between Chinese Opera and Action Cinema’ in Morris, M., Li, S., Chan Ching-kiu, S. (eds.) Hong Kong Connections: Transnational Imagination in Action Cinema. Durham: Duke University Press, pp. 21-34.

Williemen, P. (2005) ‘Action Cinema, Labour Power and the Video Market’, in Morris, M., Li, S., and Chan Ching-kiu, S. (eds.) Hong Kong Connections: Transnational Imaginations in Action Cinema. Durham: Duke University Press, pp. 223-247.

 

Journal Articles:

Mulvey, L. (1975) ‘Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema’, Screen, 16 (3), pp. 6-18.

Pettersen, D. (2014) ‘American Genre Film in the French Banlieue: Luc Besson and Parkour’, Cinema Journal, 53 (3), pp. 26-51.

 

Web Page:

Box Office Mojo (no date) Top Lifetime Grosses. Available at: https://www.boxofficemojo.com/chart/top_lifetime_gross/?area=XWW (Accessed: 4 November 2019).