Descent--Talia Lugacy (2007)

Maya (Rosario Dawson) is just a smart college student eager for new experiences in Descent (Talia Lugacy, 2007)

Rape-revenge is one of my least favorite subgenres in horror, mostly because in a rape culture, rape is an all too real horror, and not as often linked to the supernatural (although there are supernatural rapes too).  In recent years, more women have tackled this particular subject matter, often in rather unique ways, diverging from the exploitation pics of the 70s that really put the subgenre on the map (such as I Spit on Your Grave (Meir Zarchi, 1978) or Last House on the Left (Wes Craven, 1972)).  The hardest thing for me is to watch the rape at all--even if there is a great deal of revenge afterwards.  I seem to shut down during that scene (or scenes).  I vividly remember going to see Martin Scorcese's remake of Cape Fear (1991) in theaters, and just being "done" after Robert De Niro broke Illeana Douglas's arm and bit her face during her rape...yep, DONE!  Since then, I've been really intrigued by how women might represent that scene differently (and yeah, there's usually only one scene rather than a few)

Talia Lugacy's Descent (2007) really stands out, not only because of its pointed critique of toxic masculinity, but its intersectional approach to both race and gender.  Rosario Dawson really shines as the smart, ambitious Maya, who is only a first or second year student (although she looks a bit older) at a local University.  Like any young student, she's invited to a party; she's not a heavy drinker, and she's wary of the phenomenal amount of douchebags lurking around every corner.

A wary Maya attempts to party

At this party she meets football-bro Jared (Chad Faust), a gangly white dude who tries some requisite pick up lines on Maya, and then realizing that she's not buying it, says some things that seem really heartfelt.  For all intents and purposes, they could be just "meeting cute," but since spectators know damn well what's going to happen, we all just sit in dread waiting for the inevitable.  Jared doesn't seem outwardly nasty, and there are no warning flags or sirens to give Maya pause.  In fact, even when she comes back to his place after their date at a fancy restaurant, it's not clear what will happen.  But it does.  Things turn ugly and Maya will never be the same again.

Jared (Chad Faust) seems like a sweet date...until he isn't

Maya's rape is framed almost entirely like the image above, not exploiting their naked bodies, and focusing very closely on Maya's face and her distress.  Like any of these scenes, it goes on too long, but is far more brief than most. As spectators, we are entirely focused on Maya's emotional landscape.  What follows Maya's ordeal is rather striking.  Initially, she becomes more withdrawn, not telling anyone her story, and retreating into a job in retail, where other dickish guys see her as "hot" but unbelievably "cold" for the disinterest she has toward them.  Meanwhile, she has a rather transformative summer, and ends up at a nightclub one night filled with people of color, dancing, grooving, getting it on.  The vibe is sensual and fun.  When she ends up drunk and passed out, the club's DJ, Adrian (Marcus Patrick) takes her under his wing, serving as a protector and a bit of enabler.  She slips into a world filled with sex and drugs, but the film never comes off as judgmental, even if we worry about her future after her horrible experience with Jared.  She's become jaded, but stronger as well.

Fall arrives, and Maya soldiers on, even becoming a TA for one of her classes (as an undergrad!), but things go pear shaped when she notices that Jared is one of the students, AND she catches him cheating when she's proctoring an exam that he's taking.  She calls him on it, and when he intimates that she misses him, she plays along, inviting him on a date where she calls the shots.  Audiences anticipate that the revenge aspect of the film has finally arrived, and the film really doesn't get there until nearly the end, focusing far more on Maya's emotional journey prior to the vengeance.

Jared enjoys submitting to Maya on their final date

In the "revenge" scenes in the "rape-revenge" thriller, women avenging their rape(s) tend to get rather stabby and castrating, playing into a male spectator's darkest fears.  Women also, unfortunately in my estimation, tend to become very hypersexual in order to seduce the male characters into a vulnerable state, playing into their narcissistic belief that ALL women want them, even after they've brutally raped them (WTF).  Jared fits right into this role, really reveling in Maya demanding that he strip, and then blindfolding him and tying him to the bed.  It's all in good fun, right?  Here, Lugacy does not hold back on the full frontal MALE nudity, and we are served up a whole lot of penis in this film.  The camera focuses on Jared's entire vulnerable body, and I'm still on the fence about the final scene, where Maya, with help from Adrian, rapes Jared right back.  This scene goes on for a really, really, really, really long time.  That two people of color are perpetrating this revenge on this obnoxious white dude is really refreshing, and also downright hard to watch--which seems to be exactly the point.  The film asks the question, how much does an "eye for an eye" really get you??

Descent takes rape revenge in exciting new directions

I recommend seeing the Original Theatrical Version which is rated a totally justifiable NC-17, and really sitting with some of the messages this film is trying to convey.  Rosario Dawson's performance is truly remarkable, and its great to see a woman's distinctive voice added to this subgenre's disturbing canon.  Coralie Fargeat's Revenge (2017), made a decade later, makes a good companion piece, and will be streaming on Shudder some time in 2018.  A review is forthcoming (I saw it in October at Sitges, and I need another screening to get my thoughts together), but definitely check out Descent when you can.

Fantasia 2017--M.F.A.--Natalia Leite (2017)

Francesca Eastwood gives a powerful performance in Natalia Leite's provocative and divisive film M.F.A (2017)

I tend to shy away from rape-revenge films, as I find that they are often overly sexualizing and exploitative, and often too triggering in the way they represent sexual assault.  Still, rape survivors have stated that they sometimes find the cathartic nature of revenge explored in these films somewhat liberating.  Therefore, I attended the 2017 Fantasia Film Festival screening of Natalia Leite's (2017) version of rape-revenge, M.F.A., with a degree of enthusiasm and trepidation, as I hoped that the combination of women director and writer (Leah McKendrick who plays Skye in the film) would bring a necessary degree of freshness and sensitivity to the subgenre.  After sitting on, and mulling over, this film for a few days, I would say that it mostly succeeds, although I still have some reservations.  While I try to avoid spoilers in my reviews, I think some might be inevitable here, so be forewarned.

Noelle's assault brings out her burgeoning talents

M.F.A. follows Noelle (Francesa Eastwood), a young artist fulfilling an M.F.A. in fine arts at a ridiculously small arts school in Southern California.  She is shy and tightly wound, her art work uninspired and subject to withering critiques by her fellow students.  She's invited by the smarmy Luke (Peter Vack) to his house for a party, and when they retreat to his room upstairs, what starts off as a sweet make-out quickly turns into a vicious and brutal rape.  This scene is terribly hard to watch, and thankfully is one of only two sexual assaults represented in the film.  Nevertheless, both assaults are harrowing, and Leite in the Q & A states that she very carefully tried to focus on her female characters' distress and POV.  In some ways, she's in a tough position, trying not to be gratuitous, while simultaneously highlighting the brutality involved in order to make sense of Noelle's rather intense response to the ordeal.  I still think that she could have shot these scenes more carefully; I think some guys could totally read them as a turn-on.  After Noelle tries the "usual routes" for dealing with such assaults--therapy, reporting to the school, joining a survivor's group--she realizes that these types of experiences are ubiquitous and rarely find proper justice.  While I appreciate that the film shows a variety of approaches that different survivors take to their assaults, it really suggests that Noelle's take is the only one that acomplishes anything.  Once she decides to take matters into her own hands, the results are both powerful and ultimately destructive.

Noelle enacts her own form of "justice" on rapists and abusers

The ways in which Noelle achieves payback are both brutal and frequently satisfying, and Eastwood's performance makes you root for her throughout her transformation.  Yet the intensity of her response, and the specific changes that she undergoes, leave me really unsettled.  While the first murder could be seen as "accidental," Noelle starts to really get off on the blood and guts involved.  She becomes a much better artist after her assault, which is damn problematic; the philosophical discussions about art being about "truth" are kind of hackneyed and don't really fit.  Second, she also becomes a super sexy femme fatale who seduces all the guys she ultimately kills.  The fact that she becomes some sexpot that gets off on killing really undermines some of the more serious issues the film is raising.  I do not have a problem with her evolution into a vigilante, or the fact that the film rather smartly emphasizes that this type of reaction/behavior has consequences.  What I take issue with is the fact that Noelle becomes so overtly sexualized, that the film comes across as more titillating then it should.  The laughter of the guys behind me made me squirm (as it did an audience member who admitted that she too was a rape survivor).  Sure, people laugh sometimes when they are uncomfortable, but trust me--this film is NOT a comedy.

The television show Sweet Vicious tends to get the balance right between vengeance and humor, and M.F.A. at times reminded me of that series, with its combination of pitch black irony and social conscience.  Yet, at other times M.F.A. seemed to share more in common with some of the rape revenge films it is trying to critique (I Spit on Your Grave, Last House on the Left).  I still think Leite's film is a remarkable accomplishment and well worth watching, and I regretted seeing it alone because I was eager to discuss it with others, particularly female Fantasia attendees.  During the Q & A, the majority of the audience (including me) were really silent, trying our best to digest what we just saw.  I'm still chewing on the film, which I think means that it has significant impact, and also suggests that Leite and McKendrick may have some important cinematic stories still to tell.  Still, the film has some problems.  I recommend M.F.A. with a warning to be prepared to be disturbed and challenged.

Han Gong-Ju--Su-jin Lee (2013)

Woo-hee Chun gives a stunning performance as the titular character in Han Gong-Ju (2013)

Steubenville, OH is now a place synonymous with the rape culture that permeates the U.S.  Victim blaming, slut-shaming, defending our young men because "boys will be boys," Elliot Rodgers--all of these instances of misogyny are intertwined with the use of technology to document it all.  Yet, rape culture and sexual violence against girls (and women) is a global problem, and South Korean filmmakers are tackling these issues in moving and powerful ways.  I first encountered this powerful vision upon seeing Poetry (2010).  Here an elderly woman tries to understand her own grandson's involvement in a gang rape.  She attempts to find beauty in a world riddled with casual misogyny and gendered violence--all while she struggles with the onset of Alzheimer's disease.  This film is simply breathtaking.

Su-Jin Lee's Han Gong-Ju, based on the 2004 Miryang gang rape case, frames its story through its victim's eyes, as she is exiled to another town and enrolled in a new school while her rapists go to trial back home.  Gong-Ju's experience of the events that happened that day unfolds gradually, in flashback, as she attempts to tentatively build a new life in a new place.  Unfortunately, in a culture that blames and ostracizes its victims of sexual violence, she has nowhere to turn and largely no one to trust.  One young girl attempts to befriend her, and she does her best to push her away, only grudgingly accepting her kindness.  This "toughness" is so clearly a facade for this desperately lonely teen, and it's heartbreaking to watch Gong-Ju's tentative smiles and fearful glances.  Like any wounded kid, she covers her vulnerability with false bravado.

Gong-Ju's musical talents attract (wanted and unwanted) attention

Like Poetry, Han Gong-Ju finds a delicate beauty in the arts, primarily through Gong-ju's soft voice and gentle guitar playing.  One of the subplots of the film involves her very real talent, and the way she must keep her voice hidden in order to avoid the scandal from which she has fled.  Yet her past comes to find her, and her secrets are discovered by the press (likewise, a filmed copy of the assault is leaked to the internet, further exacerbating her shame and victimization).

The film is undeniably an indictment of the culture surrounding these brutal acts, and sensitively explores Gong-Ju's delicate psyche while not overwhelmingly sensationalizing or exploiting the events that have triggered her exile.  Still, the casual misogyny, coupled with the macho posturing and bullying that intersects with rape culture, are represented with a queasy realism.  One doesn't get the full picture until the film's final moments, but by that time we are fully committed to Gong-Ju's character, and can only wish that she finds some semblance of peace.  Han Gong-Ju is both harrowing and highly recommended.

And she's back with THE GIRL (2012)

My blog and I have been out of commission for a couple of months.  Illness, mostly.  All temporary, but when you're really sick, you just think you'll be that way forever.  Anyway, enough about that.  I'm back, and I'm pushing a film that was trashed by so many--perhaps for reasons that will become obvious.

Julian Jarrold's HBO film The Girl (2012) tells a very old, old story.  In this story, a powerful man makes a woman very famous/rich/powerful, but when she ultimately turns down his sexual advances, he punishes/rapes/kills her.  The lines of power are very clearly drawn.  His power is social, economic, authoritative; hers is sexual.  She is beholden to him, or so he thinks.  She should be grateful for what he has bestowed upon her.  Yet when she's not grateful enough, he destroys her.  This tale is a tale of sexual and gender inequality within a rape culture.  While this story is told repeatedly, in a myriad of different forms, many people lose their sh** when this story focuses on this guy:

Toby Jones as Alfred Hitchcock in The Girl

Yes, two films about Hitchcock were released last year.  The one I'm interested in discussing, and that other one starring Anthony Hopkins and Helen Mirren.  Now, I really like Hitchcock's films.  I love some of them, in fact.  I find it hard to pick and choose, but if I had to, I'd go with mid period Notorious (1946) and later period Marnie (1964) as two of my faves.  I also really like some of Lars Von Trier's films, and some of my favorite films in the world are by Roman Polanski.  All of these directors have made some truly stunning films--and they have treated women horribly as well, onscreen and off.  These two qualities are not mutually exclusive.

Sienna Miller as Tippi Hedren, framed by Hitchcock in The Girl

The Girl's narrative focuses on a relatively short period in Hitchcock's life and career--the time in which he discovered and worked with actress Tippi Hedren on The Birds and Marnie.  Nevertheless, those two films are important ones, and once you watch The Girl, you may never look at those films in the same way again.  I want that kind of effect from a biopic.

Certainly, the relationship between a director and his star can be deeply intimate and profound, and the film displays the mingled feelings of excitement and trepidation as Hedren begins her work with one of the world's most important and famous film directors.  In so many ways, this opportunity is a dream come true for her, one for which she IS grateful to Hitchcock.  What begins as a series of small comments and awkward moments evolves into full scale sexual harassment and sadistic abuse.  Hedren knows that her career lies in this man's hands.  He has the power to make her, and break her.  And so he does.

The scenes showing the shooting of the famous final bird attack, the one that breaks the wisecracking Melanie to the point where she is catatonic and fatally quiet, are harrowing to watch. 

The film clearly suggests that this elaborately drawn out shoot is Hitch's revenge for her spurning his advances.  These scenes are not pretty, and do not show the famous director in a flattering light.  He comes off as lecherous, petty, and spiteful.  Even the film's more sympathetic moments toward Hitchcock still render him pathetic and small.  Hitchcock's eager viewing of that scene's footage is meant to call into question our own pleasures when watching Hedren's abuse unfold.  Onscreen, the scene is thrilling; in context, it carries a slightly different edge.

This film is more interested in presenting Hedren's perspective, and the battle for power, and of wills, between her and Hitch.  Hedren's dread is palpable as she goes to work, afraid of every private meeting called between them, his every visit to her dressing room.  Yet her ego is not unaffected by her new role in the spotlight.  She accepts the role of Marnie, despite all that has happened so far.  The possibilities are too tempting.  The circumstances surrounding that film's shoot make Marnie's rape by her new husband (a marriage born from blackmail), and her attempted suicide in that film, that much more multi-layered. 

Not surprising that so many Hitchcock loving film critics (mostly men) are horrified by The Girl, and call it a travesty.  The film is one-sided, and not kind to Hitch; it focuses less on his genius and mastery, and more on the pressures women feel from those wielding power in Hollywood.

Hedren has come out for the film, and spoken for its veracity.  She has stated that while the film does not capture the fun and humor of her work with Hitchcock, it captures the tensions that existed between them--ones that deeply affected her career.  While she can laugh and say that if these things happened today, sexual harassment laws would make her "a very rich woman," I cannot help but think that there are many women working today in Hollywood who suffer similar indignities for the sake of their careers--and they are always poorer for it.