THE MASOCHISTIC PERSONALITY

"All the time I keep feeling the need to destroy it."
-Bree Daniels/Andy & Dave Lewis

The Masochistic Personality - An individual whose personality exhibits the need for suffering, complaining, self-damage, and self-deprecation.

Three Films That Got It Right...
WELCOME TO THE DOLLHOUSE - Dawn Weiner, in Welcome to the Dollhouse, is a prepubescent girl who goes through life so deflated that she can no longer summon up enough gumption to do battle with the epithet, "Weinerdog", which echoes through the school corridors whenever she passes. She conspires to the fact that she is not smart enough - certainly not when compared to her older brother, Mark; not pretty enough - especially when compared to her little sister, Missy; and not special enough to merit any concern - let alone love; even parental love. Though she longs for the affections of a high school stud named Steve, the only attention that she gets from boys is the promise of rape by the school bully, Brendan. Dawn learns the tough lesson that even when she is stranded alone in New York City, her parents can't tear themselves from their ministrations to sister Missy to come to the phone. Dear little Missy who has only to don a ballerina outfit to become her parents' little princess.
SWINGERS - Mike, a reluctant swinger in Swingers, is a scrambling actor and denizen of L.A.'s seedy-chic hipster world of borderline poverty - a world where poverty is not a source of denigration, but the status quo. Despite his friend Trent's claim that he is "money", and that the "beautiful babies" are ripe for his plucking, he feels otherwise. He moons over his old girlfriend who he left behind in New York. He will leap at any opportunity to whine and moan over his own self-induced pathetic plight.
SUGARBABY - Munich's own Marianne (Sugarbaby) whose girth is directly proportionate to her depression, works at the R.I.P. Funeral Home where she hauls caskets, dresses corpses, and in general chooses to live her life amongst the dead. In the living world, she is much less generous with her affections for life. She goes through life numb - a gray, expressionless slab responding to nothing that goes on around her. For fun, she floats, alone, in a pool. And she eats. She prepares huge trays of food to take to bed with her, and then falls asleep watching television.
Moral Masochism
The concept of masochism usually brings to mind images of sexual deviation or, at the very least, someone who enjoys physical pain. Those who use physical pain in the pursuit of pleasure are masochist. The individual who needs pain to feel more alive-who cuts himself and relish at the sight of his own blood because it proves he is alive. These individuals enjoy feeling pain because it means that at least they are feeling something. Though these individuals can be considered masochists, of more importance here is the individual who displays what Freud labeled "moral masochism." We are talking about the individual whose personality exhibits the need for suffering, complaining, self-damage, and self-deprecation. These people feel they need to live a life that is self-defeating, that they need to endure pain and suffering for their own greater good. Sexual masochists, on the other hand, are not necessarily self-defeating. They may only adopt masochism in carnal situations as a means of acting out fantasies. The reverse may also be true: a self-defeating person may not necessarily be masochistic during sex.

To note: Masochism is not technically considered a Personality Disorder (with regard to the DSM), but it is considered a personality style in psychodynamic literature. The reason for this variance is somewhat of a conundrum. Suffice to say the complex ideological opinions within the psychological community have placed the Masochist’s titled status firmly in an interpretive world about as defined and specific as the nature of life itself. The Masochist presents, without a doubt, a perplexing and intriguing personality dilemma. More importantly, it shows up in some very good films. A great place to start encountering the Masochist: the canon of films regarding prostitutes. Hollywood and hookers have had a long love affair and you need go no further than a computer keyword search for “streetwalker” to encounter jaw dropping proof of a passionate liaison (“hooker” provided a list of some 750 films). From American Gigolo to Whore and from Belle de Jour to Taxi Driver, filmmakers return with a vengeance time and again to this tried and true persona.

A debate could boil over here about the true nature of the oldest profession in the world: that it has more to do with a male dominated (male oppressive) society rather than psychology. Nonetheless, where films are concerned, more often than not the stories portray these characters victimized by forces from without as well as struggling with their own demons within. To understand the latter aspect, a study of the nature of the masochistic persona and its related personality types will be beneficial.

The gal (or guy) with a heart of gold offers wonderful opportunities to see the manifestations of the masochist-quite often in very bold, primal strokes. For the purposes of study, this is ideal. The ability to only feel gratified when they are victimized, the desire for punishment, the attraction to unhappy relationships, their sense of unworthiness, and the belief that it is better to be abused than to remain untouched and rejected-all appear regularly within the call girl psychodynamic. Two great standouts exhibiting signs of the masochist: Leaving Las Vegas and L.A. Confidential. Also, perhaps best known for going to this well on more than one occasion, is Shirley MacLaine. Some Came Running, Irma La Douce, and Bob Fosse’s under-appreciated Sweet Charity give us memorable portrayals. Irma La Douce got MacLaine the attention of the Academy, as did her character Fran in Billy Wilder’s The Apartment. The “battered wife” genre also offers great viewing with such films as Sleeping with the Enemy, The Burning Bed, and What’s Love Got to Do With It? Some give us interesting glances into the lives of teenagers exhibiting signs of this trait-John Hughes’ touching Some Kind of Wonderful with Mary Stuart Masterson in a heartfelt performance as a young girl struggling with her sense of self.

The Masochist in film-the true masochist-is often hard to find. Many characters in film embody certain characteristics of this psychological condition-observe Humphrey Bogart's character, Rick, in Casablanca; Ryan O’Neal’s loony punching bag, Howard Bannister, in What’s Up, Doc?; the put upon Thelma (Geena Davis) in Thelma and Louise; or Kathy Bates in Dolores Claiborne. These films offer sound examples . . . if somewhat abstract in their interpretation. It is rare for films to take on characters that embody the full manner. The Masochist appears weak by their traits, and weak characters at the center of a story can be terribly difficult to root for. This is not to say that psychotic killers are easy to love, but their irrational behavior becomes acceptable because they are seen as disturbed and irrational individuals. But a character that is a Masochist frequently appears to be a "normal" person in all other ways. When we experience their self-destructive tendencies, such as seen in an abusive relationship, common sense and logic cause the viewer to lose empathy. We shake our heads at these characters and wonder why they don’t walk away from such a mess. Dolores (Kathy Bates in Dolores Claiborne) wins our appeal because her masochistic tendencies are mostly in the past. She has recently taken some definitive steps to dealing with her problem. A stellar performance by Jane Fonda as Bree Daniels (in Klute) as well as Carrie Snodgress's beautifully insinuated portrayal of Tina Balser (in Diary of a Mad Housewife) are further prime examples of a lead character that embodies the Masochistic Personality and pulls it off. Primarily this occurs for two reasons. First, there is the quality of the performances, but more importantly the stories are told specifically from their perspective; the view of the other characters is slightly askew-perhaps not the way we would see them, but the way the central character interprets them. When done to full effect and we witness the entire world through the eyes of the lead character (when our world becomes their world), it is nearly impossible not to develop some empathy and understanding for them and the journey they are on.
The Accident Waiting to Happen
The self-defeating behavior of the Masochistic Personality goes against the belief that human beings are inherently pleasure seeking, at least in the obvious sense. Their habitual need for self-imposed suffering actually affords the Masochist a sense of moral triumph and they hold that triumph high. It can be a sense of penitence, a feeling of release that someone (themselves) is so inherently worthless that he or she is only getting what is due. There is also a martyrdom possibility-they get to feel special for being so constantly put upon. Although it certainly can't be pleasurable to be consistently taunted, Dawn Weiner (Welcome to the Dollhouse) is inarguably the most special girl in school. Her locker is decorated with highly ornate script proclaiming "Weinerdog" and "Woof Woof.” She definitely gets more attention than do any of the other girls-certainly more than she herself gets at home from her parents. It is a behavior that provides an efficient way for Masochists to have their needs met. By being submissive, downtrodden, they can garner sympathy. Pain is a form of attention. Sympathy is better than nothing. In Swingers, Mike is constantly bemoaning his fate and his failure with girls. "Girls don't go for me the way they go for you," he tells Trent. But every time he does complain this invariably goads his friends into telling him how "money" he is. It is a constant Pavlovian source of attention, compliments, and positive reinforcement.

Masochists may also believe they are suffering pain and anguish (and are only too happy to do so) as a way of circumventing greater pain, such as that related to abandonment. Marianne (Sugarbaby) in Munich pines for the U-Bahn conductor known as Huber 133. She is lonely, emotionally atrophied, and she tortures herself by repeatedly playing a record of "Sugarbaby.” It’s their song, although Huber doesn't know it yet. Marianne raises herself up from the muck of despair and obsessively pursues Huber, knowing full well that he is a married man. She finally manages to seduce him. She then suffers devastating humiliation at the hands of Mrs. Huber, and she loses him. Her pain is excruciating. The lesson for the Masochists is that it is better to pine and moan (and suffer in hope) than to actually lose that which you want most. Hence, Dawn's attachment to high school heartthrob Steve Rogers in Welcome to the Dollhouse and Mike's attachment to Michelle (the girl he left behind) in Swingers.

The Masochistic Personality commonly feels that their lot in life is no fault of their own but rather is merely bad karma, a short straw drawn at reincarnation time, being born under some unlucky astrological trine. Masochists feel they deserve this lot in life. They believe they are essentially unworthy of better treatment. For Masochists, the whole world is against them. More importantly, the whole world is right. An interesting film that explores this is an odd little gem called Such Good Friends. It’s worth viewing if for no other reason then to see the results of a collaboration between the seemingly humorless director Otto Preminger and comic writer Elaine May (using a pseudonym here). Dyan Cannon gives a polished performance as a housewife lost on a journey into self-abasement.

The Masochistic Personality tends to be passive, isolated, and demoralized. Huber's (Sugarbaby) wife bursts into the disco where Marianne has taken Huber for a night on the town. Pushing her way through the crowd to Marianne, she mercilessly pummels Marianne's head with her purse. Marianne stands there, unflinching, cowed-deserving. Dawn Weiner cloisters herself in her "Special People's Club," the only other member being someone more outcast than herself. They are also great practitioners of self-sabotage. They experience a constant attack on their self-esteem, security, or physical well being. In order to circumvent that, they take the initiative and launch the attack on themselves. Marianne's greatest hurdle on her path to a vibrant social life is her excess weight, yet the first thing that she does when she experiences rejection is to plow through a plate of pastries. Mike finally meets a girl with whom he might be able to forget his past girlfriend and somehow mend his broken heart. After getting her phone number, his friends (true swingers) advise him to wait a few days before calling her. Instead, Mike arrives home that night, well into the wee hours of the next day, and calls her. In an effort not to appear needy, he leaves repeated messages on her answering machine, trying to undo the pathetic damage he had done with each previous message. Only managing to dig himself deeper, he finally calls off the whole relationship before it has begun.

Such individuals will commonly feel that the punishment they constantly receive is in their best interest. The Masochist's unconscious need for punishment is based on guilt and leads to self-inflicted suffering via accidents, financial loss, failure, disgrace, and unhappy relationships. Marianne falls in love not only with a married man, but also with a beautiful one who does not acknowledge the space that she takes up. Dawn Weiner sets herself up for disappointment by falling in love with an older high school heartthrob who only has interest in beauty queens who have already developed sexually. Charity Hope Valentine, Cabiria, Sera, (Sweet Charity, Nights of Cabiria, Leaving Las Vegas) and their fellow working girls all have resumes of wrong men. They punish themselves by looking for love in all the wrong places.

Masochists often actively use their victimhood. After all, they assume the mantle of the victim to gain sympathy. They use victimization to gain love. The prostitute character Bree Daniels in Klute holds (through denigrating herself) a certain power over her customers. Because she knows she is at the bottom of the heap (as a hooker), there is nowhere to go but up; or, more importantly, she has the security of knowing that her life can't possibly get any worse. She's wrong, of course, and therein lies the play.

Masochists are often consumed by feelings of unworthiness and the subsequent rejection therefrom. But self-fulfilling prophecies may come into play here. They make themselves unworthy-they feed into what makes people reject them. Marianne feeds the problem that defeats her. Mike mopes, giving up before attempting, or willfully not playing it cool by heeding the advice of his sexually successful friends. Instead of waiting to call a girl, he calls her so much that it borders on stalking.

Masochists also exhibit a near constant sense of being incomplete. Something is always missing in their lives. What’s missing is love. Hardly a surprise. They feel unappreciated, operating with the feeling that if someone would actually take the time, they would find something valuable, something to nurture. As it is, that something inside of them goes unrecognized. Instead of demanding their worth be appreciated, they jump on the bandwagon of taunting and hatred, often being the first to deride their own person. As they perceive attacks from others, they enthusiastically attack themselves. No one is more victimized than those who allow it, let alone encourage it. Few scenes in films can apprehend the heart and essence of a personality style as well as the shot from Sugarbaby in which Marianne, at work in the funeral home, holds hands with a corpse as if it were her boyfriend. Desperate for love, even if it’s from the dead.
Triumph of the Underdog
The Masochist may believe that those around them are inferior, yet they will do nothing to reverse the status of their own inferiority. Mike knows that he is sensitive, loving, and that his swinger friends show little consideration to women (if not outright contempt), but he is content to mope and wallow and condemn Trent's behavior. Meanwhile, Trent makes off with all the "beautiful babies." Dawn Weiner knows that her sister is a spoiled, manipulative, prancing caricature of a princess, but she bows down to her parents adoration of her lesser siblings and humbly takes her place as the ugly handmaiden. As with Mike's mumbled complaints, Dawn only shows her displeasure in private-she finds an outlet for her rage by sawing off the heads of Missy's dolls (a scene for the audience that elevates Dawn to near Norma Rae status).

These individuals seem to enjoy their punishment and suffering and often they brag about it to others. Masochists seldom forgo the opportunity to gush about their misery and self-efface. They are the quickest ones to point out their own faults and shortcomings, regardless if none exist. They constantly beat themselves up, usually verbally, but also physically. What this pride in victim-hood does for the Masochist is to provide them with the triumph of the underdog. Their martyrdom belittles their attackers and because they exalt in their suffering-because their self-esteem is enhanced by it-they can outwardly appear grandiose, scornful. Dawn Weiner sneers at the gorgeous have-alls who, if not bullying her, ignore her. Marianne is fully aware of the withering glances she gets, not only for her occupation, but for her girth as well. Instead of cowering or being ashamed, she holds her head high. She seems almost haughty.

The Masochist can also suffer from a fear of success. Egocentric, they destroy everything good that happens to them. This is because their pattern of behavior has worked for them so far. Why change things? They've managed to get the desired attention and sometimes even sympathetic affection. They have come up with a method of behaving that has produced results. If they ever became winners they would lose their status as martyrs-they would be introduced into a new and alien circumstance where they would not know how to operate. They might be noticed, and then they'd lose the comfort of anonymity. They would lose the ability-and hence the reassuring leisure-to fail. With success comes a standard to which they must live up to. With success comes pressure to promulgate that success, or fail more miserably. The fall doesn't hurt as badly, when you're already as low as you can go. But perhaps the most compelling cause of the fear of success is the Masochist's deep-rooted feelings of unworthiness. Masochists feel that they don't deserve success or love, and if they achieve or receive it, they feel that sooner or later they'll be exposed as frauds.

To insure avoiding such scenarios, the Masochist uses a host of defense mechanisms. Chief among these defense mechanisms:
Denial
Reaction Formation
Deflection of Guilt
Immoralization
Projection
Acting Out
Repetition Compulsion

Denial-this denial is most recognizably seen in the earlier mentioned belief that they themselves are not responsible for their suffering-that it is instead due to the workings of outside, malignant forces. They take little responsibility for their own abject misery. They are victims of God's ill humor.

The Masochistic Personality also uses a great deal of reaction formation. They adopt behavior that is diametrically opposed to what they fear. They fight back by not fighting back.

Along with this, is deflection of guilt. The fickle, unjust, mean-spirited fates are responsible for their plight. In relationships, this deflection carries over to the partner ("See how you've hurt me? I'm in pain because of you"). In Swingers, Mike moons over his old girlfriend. She has shattered his life, yet he is the one who left her and moved to Los Angeles.

Immoralization is also a common defense. Masochists want to justify their behavior through moral victory. Suffering is an only too common requisite of the righteous. But these individuals have the unconscious belief that they are intrinsically bad, intrinsically deserving of their misery. They therefore get others to validate this belief-they get others to be guilty of greater moral wrongs than they believe themselves guilty.

This is projection-another defense mechanism. They project their self-defeating behavior outside themselves so as not to have to take responsibility.

The Masochist also defensively acts out, which is to say that they take the initiative when it comes to doling out the harm. They will feel anxiety that someone-such as an authority figure-is set to do them harm, or they are secure in the knowledge that someone eventually will do them harm, so they expect it. In order to relieve this anxiety they punish themselves first in the anticipation. They may also exhibit behavior of extreme provocation. Again, they will force others to harm them to relieve the anxiety of the inevitable. Dawn secures punishment at the hands of her mother in the surest way possible-targeting Missy.

This also leads to repetition compulsion-trying to resolve early childhood trauma through constantly repeating the past. Though the Masochist may be responsible for their ill treatment (it may actually come at their own hands) they still see themselves as the victims as the punishment is seen to have come eventually from others.

Relationships
It is common in relationships for Masochists to be overly dependent, submissive, and malleable in the extreme. They function best as victims, so victims they become. Their self-defeating behavior also emerges in their choice of relationships. Often they will choose to associate or align themselves with others who are bullies or, in the case of love and marriage, with partners who are distant, uninterested, or totally inappropriate. They manage to find someone eager to serve as a generator of abuse. They gravitate toward those who will validate their low sense of self-worth and recreate relationships in which they are pummeled with either abuse or insensitivity or sadism.

Attachment to others may be in the form of having pain inflicted on them, either emotionally or physically. Pain, for the Masochist, is love manifested. Masochists find that in their relationships their self-defeating behavior pays off. They get what they want and need-it’s called protection. If they don't get the attention through sympathy, they will get it through provocation. The more they suffer the greater the response. Dawn Weiner longs for unavailable men, but settles for abusive Brendan-a boy with the longest and most secure history of abusing her. Mike pines for a girl after he has made sure that there is 3000 miles between them. In the wonderful little independent thriller, Apartment Zero, Adrian LeDuc takes in a boarder, Jack Carney, a young rouge who is as sensually handsome as he is sexually mysterious. Clearly a bad choice from the start, Adrian can't help himself and the results turn disastrous-this, despite his own intelligence and a remarkable knowledge of films that unfold this way.

Common to their thinking is the belief that if they can only get someone to feel sorry for them, they won't be abandoned emotionally. One of the great fears of the Masochist is that of abandonment-in many cases it supersedes the fear of bodily harm or death. “Don't leave me or I'll kill myself,” is an expression of this extreme. Mike is given an opportunity to have sex with a girl in a trailer park in Las Vegas. The scene is set. The girl is willing and any qualms as to the purpose of the excursion to the trailer are allayed by the fact that Trent and his girl are already going at it behind a folding screen. Instead of seducing the girl-which in this instance would take little time or talent-Mike regales her with the story of his shambles of a love life. Instead of kisses and petting, he offers her whines and complaints. But he achieves what he wants: the girl is all but reduced to tears of sympathy and takes him to her (purely figurative) maternal breast and coddles him.

Masochists often appear subdued. “Doormats” would probably serve as the appropriate colloquialism here. They are victims waiting to happen . . . weaklings slouching around wearing hangdog expressions that make them look easy to hurt, ready and willing targets. This often evokes exasperation in those around them, which can only further encourage the Masochist. Exasperation from others is almost as good as abuse. Exasperation often leads to anger in the partner. Their mates may become infuriated by having to constantly save their masochistic mates. It is very hard to remain neutral in a relationship that is so out of balance. For the sake of love (or for the sake of hanging onto someone and not being abandoned) the Masochist will forfeit all of his personal power and self-esteem. Dolores (Dolores Claiborne) will withstand many years of abuse before she strikes out. They take the submissive role-they are the helpless, rain-battered orphans-and need to be taken care of. They will constantly demonstrate their suffering so as to elicit their partners' attention. People in contact with Masochists will be persuaded to save and comfort them because they wholeheartedly live their roles as victims threatened by life's ugly improprieties and dangerous situations.
Backstory
The childhood of the Masochistic Personality is often mirrored in their adult behavioral patterns. Masochists often spend their formative years as victims of abuse or abandonment. In the former instance, the reductive worldview of the child equates abuse with love. The child's primary bond is to the parent, and the parent is the sole font of affection. If the parent abuses the child, the child's early logic confuses the two . . . mistakes one for the other. When the developing Masochist seeks love and attention, he therefore seeks an abusive relationship. The ground rules have been set. The logic is in place. In Welcome to the Dollhouse, the only attention that Dawn Weiner receives is negative. Her attention comes in the form of degradation. She surreptitiously meets Brendan, who, against his better judgment and peer pressure, is attracted to her. Yet Dawn makes it known that it is perfectly acceptable for him to degrade her. It is what she knows, what she is equipped to handle.

The Masochist who experiences abandonment early on tends to use this early experience as a template for adult relationships. They tend to seek out remote, distant partners who will not be able to provide for their emotional needs. By doing so they satisfy that elusive love that they never attained as children. They seek to right old wrongs, heal old wounds. Sugarbaby's Marianne was overfed as an infant because she was a runt. From then on she equates feeding with love. She feeds Huber just like she fed her mother when she was withering away toward death.

Lessons learned early in their development include the idea that the punishment they receive is often in their best interest. Why else would their role models (and parents are omnipotent) behave as they do? They must be justified in their actions and the justification falls squarely on the intrinsic guilt of the budding Masochist. Young Masochists also believe that it is better to be beaten than neglected, because neglect equals abandonment, which equals death. So the Masochist will learn a pattern of provocation. In order to avoid abandonment, he will incur wrath.

The Masochist may say that their parents assaulted them a great deal, either physically or verbally, yet they seem to relish in the act of telling their manifold sorrows. This tendency, likewise, is seen in the adult. The Masochist is a victim, but gains a great deal of satisfaction in being so, and thus is eager to relate any and all ill treatment that he receives. These individuals usually emerge from childhood with unresolved dependency issues and the fear of being alone. This is easily understood because the roots of the Masochistic Personality are in the lack of nurturing or the improper nurturing that they receive.
The Arc Of A Masochistic Film Character
Then we first meet Mike in Swingers we see him in the role that he is all too accustomed to playing, one that he is comfortable with, one that is overly familiar to his friends. He is the victim, the self-proclaimed loser who stews in the misery and attendant loneliness of life without his girlfriend-a girlfriend he left behind, but whom he feels betrayed by when she doesn't call. So entrenched and habitual is this sulking and whining that he feels he has to apologize for continually harping. "I'm sorry," he tells his friend, Rob. "We always talk about the same thing all the time." Trent (another friend) tells him that he not only has to get over his girlfriend, but he has to get out of his stuffy apartment as well. So, in yet another valiant effort to lift Mike from his mire of self-pity, Trent takes him to Las Vegas.

But Mike manages to fail in Vegas as well-the prime directive of swingers being, presumably, to score with the "beautiful babies.” Mike aborts his seduction of a casino cocktail waitress (in the process thwarting Trent's more urgent attempts at doing likewise). He regales her with his well-hashed whining about his ex-girlfriend, extinguishing all passion in the room more effectively than bathing in saltpeter. He circumvents failure by admitting defeat before the battle’s waged. How can he be dumped when he's already in such a self-imposed state?

Act Two begins as the pair head back to Los Angeles and Mike resolves to "get back out there, not make any more excuses for myself."

But back in LA, Mike quickly backslides and glumly goes through the days of an actor-slash-comedian. He frequents parties and bars where he strikes out with any number of those beautiful babies. He assumes the mantle as the easy butt of his friends' jokes-and an easier mark to spring for pizza. Meanwhile, Trent and the others have no problem making time with innumerable women, counseling Mike that he can't be weak (the eternal victim). He has to newly imagine himself as the aggressor, as the victimizer. But as Mike watches how his friends carry on, he expresses umbrage at their behavior. He takes the moral high ground. Sure, he's a victim, but at least he's righteous. From this position of moral infallibility, he chastises Trent and his other friends for their poor treatment of women, for using them for sex and discarding them, for scamming phone numbers at parties only to tear them up in full view of everyone assembled.

When Mike has words with his friend, a boy named Sue, Sue tells him that he is, "a whiny little bitch.” It makes no difference if he got a phone number or not because he would only screw it up anyway. Sue knows this because Mike never shuts up about it. This shoves Mike into a true depression and he holes himself up in his apartment. His friend Rob comes over and convinces him that he is only a victim because he chooses to be: "You don't look at the stuff that you have, you only look at the stuff that you don't have. She won't call because you left. It's like you miss the pain like you miss her."

Act Three begins as Mike crawls out of his misery, out of his submissive position as an emotional spittoon for women. He ventures back into the world on newly confident, yet somewhat wobbly, legs. Sue apologizes and Mike tells him that he needed "a good kick in the ass. We're better friends for it." When he goes out to swing again with the boys, he meets a lovely woman with whom he has something in common and a mutual attraction. When she tells him that she'll see him around, he tells her that that's not good enough, that he wants to make definite plans to see her. When he is at last able to hang up on Michelle to take another phone call, right when she is in the middle of saying "I love you," he has truly arrived. He is finally a master of his own domain. Trent is delighted. "My little baby's all grown up," he marvels as he does a dance on the table among their breakfasts. Mike stops being a victim when he stops acting as though he were one.
QUALITIES AND QUALIFICATIONS THAT DEFINE THE MASOCHISTIC PERSONALITY:

They tend to exhibit a depressive mood.

They tend to complain about being the victims of fate.

They tend to feel that malevolent people are somehow involved in their prosecution.

They usually have early childhood fears of rejection and abandonment.

They usually have sadistic tendencies, as sadistic and masochistic feelings are usually always linked. The guilt of having these sadistic feelings turns inwards to self-sadism, or masochism.

This personality usually emerges early in childhood.

They usually only feel gratified when they are victimized.

Their desire for punishment is usually subconscious.

They tend to manifest failure in their lives.

They are usually accident-prone.

They tend to find or place themselves in positions where disgrace is inevitable.

They seek out unhappy relationships, or derail the ones that are good.

They tend to be resistant to therapy; they don't want to give up their suffering.

They tend to undermine pleasurable experiences.

They seek out maltreatment, even when better options are presented.

They usually feel that they're unworthy of any good things that come their way.

They usually respond with guilt when things do go their way.

They tend to invite rejection, then feel hurt, defeat, or humiliation.

They tend to provoke others to anger.

They tend to self-sacrifice to a harmful degree, and this is usually unsolicited and discouraged by others.

They tend to avoid situations that would make them happy.

When they do enjoy themselves, they are reluctant to admit it.

They usually fail to complete tasks, even when they are able to, because that would mean success.

They tend to reject or ignore people who treat them well.

They tend to harbor a sense of moral triumph through self-imposed suffering.

They tend to believe that by enduring pain they're preventing some greater anguish (such as abandonment).

They tend to have constant sadness and unconscious guilt and may feel anger and resentment toward others for their torment.

They tend to store up and harp on injustices done to them, rather than to try and correct them.

They tend to feel that it's better to be beaten than untouched, abused rather than rejected.

Unlike Paranoid Personalities, Masochists need people around them to transfer their sadistic tendencies; they need victimizers in order to be victims.

They tend live in a state of dread. That people will observe their shortcomings and reject them.

NOTEWORTHY CHARACTERISTICS OF THE MASOCHISTIC PERSONALITY

SPEECH
Self-defeating. Self-deprecating. Abusive. Demeaning.

PROFESSIONS
Professions that may have a demoralizing stigma attached to them-such as prostitutes. Actors. Comedians. Subservient roles in business-such as secretaries that are overqualified for job and never leave.

DRESS
Similar to speech, it is self-deprecating. Not unusual to dress in a manner that will give credence to their belief that they are unattractive.

HEALTH
Their love of pain might create an over-exaggeration of symptoms. Constant health problems due to terrors of pleasure. Stress related illnesses. Headaches. Gastrointestinal. Back pain.

POPULAR CLICHÉS OF MASOCHISTIC THE PERSONALITY
The Stick-in-the-Mud
The Complainer.
The Punching Bag.
The Accident waiting to happen.
The Sourpuss.
The Crank.
The Grouser.
The Kvetch.
The Martyr.
The Zealot.
Doormats.
Weaklings.
Scapegoat.
Victim.
Sucker.
Dupe.

SIMILAR PERSONALITY STYLES OF THE MASOCHISTIC PERSONALITY
THE NARCISSISTIC PERSONALITY
THE BORDERLINE PERSONALITY

VIEWING SUGGESTIONS OF THE MASOCHISTIC PERSONALITY

Apartment, The (1960) - Drama/Comedy, 125, No rating.
Shirley MacLaine's Oscar nominated performance as Fran. Winner of five Academy Awards, including one for the skillful writing.

Apartment Zero (1988) - Thriller, 124, Rated R.
For a terrific performance by Colin Firth as the doomed Adrian. Lost in a Hollywood storm, this film is a great character study and a thrill of a ride.

Burning Bed, The (1984) - 100, No rating.
Farrah Fawcett in a career changing performance as a battered wife.

Casablanca (1942) - War/Drama, 102, No rating.
Subtle, interesting displays of masochistic tendencies from Humphrey Bogart. A great example of how to use the characteristics without drowning in the personality. Among many other Oscar awards, one for the legendary writing.

Cinderella Liberty (1973) - Drama, 117, Rated R.
Marsha Mason in her Oscar nominated performance as a hooker.

Diary of a Mad Housewife (1970) - Drama/Comedy, 103, Rated R.
Carrie Snodgress in her Oscar nominated performance as the mentally abused housewife, Tina Balser.

Dolores Claiborne (1995) - Thriller/Mystery/Drama , 131, Rated R.
A seamless and stunning performance by Kathy Bates as an abused wife. Perhaps one of the best movies ever made that captures the essence of psychology and storytelling.

Klute (1971) - Crime, 114, Rated R.
Jane Fonda as call girl, Bree Daniels. She won the Oscar. It was also nominated for the tough-as-nails writing.

Leaving Las Vegas (1995) - Drama, 112, Rated R.
Elizabeth Shue in a riveting performance. Shue was nominated for Best Actress, as was Mike Figgis for the writing and the directing.

Nights of Cabiria (1957) - Drama, 110, No rating.
Fellini's glorious take on prostitute life. Winner of Best Foreign Film. The bases of the American musical, Sweet Charity.

Some Kind of Wonderful (1987) - Romance, 93, Rated PG-13.
A terrific and rare look at a teen masochist. Mary Stuart Masterson as Watts. John Hughes offers some of his best writing.

Such Good Friends (1971) - Comedy, 100, Rated R.
Great performance by Dyan Cannon as a self-abased woman. Truly one of the oddest Director/Writer collaborations ever. Otto Preminger and Elaine May (using a pseudonym).

Sugarbaby (1985) - Drama/Comedy, 87, No rating.
Touching performance by Marianne Sagebrecht as Marianne

Swingers (1996) - Comedy, 96, Rated R.
A strong twist that gives us a modern male version of a masochist.

Tommy Boy (1995) - Comedy, 96, Rated PG-13.
Funny and very broad telling of a male masochist. Chris Farley as Tommy Callahan.

What's Love Got to Do With It (1993) - Musical/Biography, 119, Rated R.
Interesting look at the real-life masochistic tendencies of a superstar.

What's Up, Doc? (1972) - Comedy, 94, Rated G.
Great screwball comedy with Ryan O'Neal as the put upon Howard Bannister.

Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995) - Comedy, 88, Rated R.
Very dark comedy about a young girl suffering from masochistic tendencies. Great viewing of tough subject matter.