Laura Mulvey argues that there are three components to the gaze; the position of the spectator, the position of the camera, and the position of the characters on screen. Give an example of a moment in "Girl on a Motorcycle," when the gaze positions Rebecca as an object.
Although the entire film may be qualified as being under constant direction of the male gaze, the most blatant instance of a dominant patriarchal agenda was in the final, climactic montage leading directly up to Rebecca's death. The camera dances around Rebecca speeding towards Daniel on her motorcycle, as the scene at hand is interspersed with flashback moments and bits of psychedelic-tinged dreams. Throughout this entire sequence, Rebecca is only represented in highly sexualized pieces: her butt bouncing on the seat, a crotch straddling the motorcycle, her hair whipping around, her hand revving the handle, her thighs clenching the seat tighter. We never (/rarely?) see her entire person at one time. Flashes of her in the circus, Daniel her ringmaster, whipping her with a frayed horse whip cut in and out. All the while, we see cuts of her smiling breathlessly with her mouth parted in a sexually suggestive manner, tossing her head back and laughing. As she speeds up it is a very heavy-handed metaphor for racing towards a (sexual) climax, and between the editing, positioning of the shots, and swelling score, we (the audience) feel a thick, rising tension. But despite belonging to a genre of film built on the notion of the road as a representation of freedom, she isn't even allowed that temporary experience of autonomy a woman claims when she 'reaches her destination'/orgasms. Just as Rebecca only experienced sex throughout the film from the position of an object (as we experience in the way it's filmed, the submissive role she plays in each sexual encounter, the way her character's entire drive/purpose is constructed around the desire to throw herself across Daniel's lap so he may paw at her while he provides her with "an identity", along with many other outrageously sexist constructs) so she remains an object even as she transcends her character to become a symbol. The audience gets to experience a highly eroticized build-up, leading to a violent, lethal climax (a juxtaposition I found deeply unsettling, and which unfortunately continues to boost ticket sales to this day); Rebecca, meanwhile, is stripped of her final climactic moment, finding her release instead of in pleasure, or liberation, in death. She was the vessel for the audience's pleasure, for the pleasure of the men around her-- especially Daniel. She did not seek pleasure for herself, as any male character in her position would have; rather, as the final scene suggests most clearly, she served merely as an object for the audience and men around her to desire and draw pleasure from.