Disclaimers:
- Trigger Warning for rape, assault, violence against women, etc.
- I am going to primarily be talking about the rape of women, as that is most common and most commonly depicted. That is not to say men cannot be raped. They can and it is just as serious of an issue.
“Rape scenes shouldn’t exist in films”
Every time I say something along these lines, I am met with a chorus of people accusing me of “censoring.” One group mistakes “rape scenes” to mean “rape in the narrative.” While it’s true that there is most certainly an over-reliance on rape in narratives (especially ones that involve women), when I say “rape scene” I mean visually depicting the act itself. Another group talks about the “shouldn’t exist in film” part of the sentence, really honing in on the word “should” – as if the word comes with some sort of legal consequence and enforcement. What I really mean is “it’s a bad idea and has terrible real-life consequences”, not “it should be outlawed.”
“Depicting the act of rape on screen is usually bad and it is probably best to leave such visuals out of your media”
I guess I need to amend the statement (and then elaborate):
The reason I need to amend this statement isn’t just other people’s “confusion,” but also a lack of clarity and nuance on my end. In the past, I don’t think I’ve been able to articulate my thoughts on the matter properly. So, here is my new, hopefully, better attempt:
I mentioned that narratives tend to have an over-reliance on rape. Of course, there are many personal tales and genuine explorations that handle the subject with the care and weight it demands. But I am instead referring to the common use of rape as a narrative device/characterizing act. One example is the male action hero who sees a woman being assaulted and saves her – turning the rape of a woman into a “save the cat” moment. Rape is therefore used to characterize the man as “good.” Conversely, rape has also been used to characterize the male rapist as “bad.” This can also be seen in primary antagonists as well. The media seems to think an easy way to characterize a male hero as good and a villain as bad is to show them either stopping/refraining from rape (as if refraining is admirable rather than just expected) or committing rape, respectively. The woman herself is only considered as a prop in their story, an object for establishing character. Similarly, the entire arc of the male hero frequently revolves around getting revenge for the rape/murder of a woman. These heroes often disregard the agency and wishes of the woman they are supposedly “avenging,” shifting the narrative from “avenge” to “revenge” (with gross implications of who the woman’s body belongs to). Exploring the effects of a woman’s trauma on a man rather than the woman is similarly sickening (especially in a culture where exploring the effects of trauma and assault on a survivor’s psyche is uncommon).
Examples of male-focused narratives with female assault victims include:
Xander in Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Joss Whedon, 1997-2003), Mr. Bates in Downton Abbey (Julian Fellows, 2010-2014), Tyrion, Theon, and others in Game of Thrones (David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, 2011-2019), Sonny in The Godfather (Francis Ford Coppola, 1972), Venkman in Ghostbusters (Ivan Reitman, 1984), The Joker in Batman: The Killing Joke (Alan Moore, 1988), Marcus and Pierre in Irreversible (Gaspar Noé, 2002), Red in Mandy (Panos Cosmatos, 2018), the detectives in Memories of Murder (Bong Joon-ho, 2003), and so on.
However, rape as a plot device is not only problematic when used to characterize men. Using rape as a plot device for female characters is also common. Here, rape either happens or is revealed to have happened in the past to articulate trauma and/or sympathy. In other words, creators (usually male) use rape as a shorthand for trauma. Why is she traumatized? She was raped. Why does she deserve revenge? She was raped. How do we make her sympathetic? Have her get raped. While it is true that an alarming number of women have been raped/assaulted, using it the furthers the plot, without actually examining the effects and emotions that come with being a survivor or using it as mere revenge fodder (as if the trauma only results in violence and ends when the revenge is completed), is common and disgraceful.
Examples of such media include:
Countless women in Game of Thrones (David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, 2011-2019), Jennifer in I Spit on Your Grave (Meir Zarchi, 1978), The Bride in Kill Bill (Quentin Tarantino, 2003), Yuki in Lady Snowblood (Toshiya Fujita, 1973), Red Sonja in Red Sonja (many comics and 1985 film), Mellie in Scandal (Shonda Rhimes, 2012-2018), and so on.
In these examples, it isn’t just the visual depiction of rape that bothers me but the narrative use of it is not what I am talking about when I condemn rape in media. They are important, however, in contextualizing the extent to which rape permeates narratives (as a plot device), as well as demonstrating the difference between rape as a plot device and rape as a genuine trauma. This may seem unimportant for my specific distaste for the visual depiction of rape but examining these issues serves as an important backdrop for such discussion – both in terms of how a scene might exist in a narrative, exposing the culture such scenes exist in, and also serving as a blueprint for different “types” of rape visuals.
The most obvious problem with the visual depiction of rape exists in clearly exploitative media. I do not wish to spend too much time on pornography, but porn that focuses on “rape fantasies” is an obvious example of such exploitation. However, other media can contain clearly exploitative images as well. For example, the cult classic rape-and-revenge film I Spit on Your Grave (Meir Zarchi, 1978) features a roughly 25-minute-long rape scene in which the protagonist, Jennifer, is brutally and repeatedly gang-raped. I don’t think it’s controversial to say that a rape scene should not be 25 minutes long. For a scene to last this long, it must be deemed “entertaining.” This scene is clearly not meant as a mere backstory/reason/sympathy for the protagonist. It is meant to be as entertaining as the rest of the film. The fact that it has become a cult classic is equally as disturbing as it confirms that people do find this scene enjoyable and consider it to have high rewatch value.
However, my declaring that a 25-minute rape scene is exploitative is hardly contested. The point I wish to make is that rape scenes in general are exploitative. To explain a bit more, I’m going to use an example of sexual harassment rather than rape/assault. In the film Bombshell (Jay Roach, 2019), Roger Ailes (real-life former chairman and CEO of Fox News) harasses Kayla (a fictional character for the film) by pressuring her into lifting her skirt for him (with promises of career advancements). However, in this moment, the scene’s suspense is not purely horror. Instead, the viewers are treated to the visual sight of Kayla lifting her skirt. As Ailes continuously requests she lift it higher and higher to show him her body, the viewers are left with similar suspense, waiting for her to eventually fully lift her skirt. Obviously, this scene is meant to be horrifying. But it focuses on the reveal of her body. Why was this visual included? Why not focus on Kayla’s face? Actress Margot Robbie was performing the scene phenomenally and focusing on her face would have been a better touch. Cutting back and forth between Ailes’s repulsive lust and Kayla’s horror, shame, anger, violation, hesitation, and sadness would have driven home the true horror of the scene. Instead, the scene focuses on Kayla’s body. This slow, suspenseful reveal of her body aligns the audience with Ailes at this moment (waiting for the reveal) and therefore makes it painfully easy (arguably even encouraged) to revel at/enjoy/“get off” to the sight of Kayla. Therefore, the visual of the harassment actively participate in the harassment, becoming exploitative. This is my main issue with rape scenes.
One could say that it is possible to depict rape in a decidedly gruesome way – a way that doesn’t build suspense or align the audience with the rapist. This is true, but I personally find this distinction insignificant. The rape scenes in the first season of the controversial show 13 Reasons Why (Brian Yorkey, 2017-2020) were solely meant to be horrifying – and they were undoubtedly filmed that way as they focused on the trauma and dissociation of the lead and purely painted the rapist as a predator. However, it was met with intense backlash.
To best explain why I am going to use an example of sexualization rather than rape/assault. While I personally found the backlash to Cuties (Maïmouna Doucouré, 2020) to be disproportionate – fueled by bad advertising and a refusal to understand the experience of young girls – it was not entirely incorrect. People were outraged that a film would sexualize children/show children participating in “sexual acts” (not sex, but sexual dancing). While I think the film does deserve some credit for its narrative treatment of the sexualization of young girls, the visual aspect highlights my issues with rape scenes quite well. Many people who spoke out against the film (including me, in my own review on Instagram), called out the specific cinematography choices of filming the children’s butts as they attempted to twerk. While the film may not view these shots as sexual (instead of thinking of them as disturbingly realistic), many claimed that the visual depiction still allowed for a different reading. It allowed viewers to watch young children dance sexually – therefore allowing viewers to “get off” to such images. Therefore, while meant to be horrifying, they could also participate in the very thing they aimed to criticize.
This is my issue with the visual depiction of rape in media. Obviously graphic and clearly exploitative scenes are undeniably disgraceful – but even the most harrowing scene contains elements of exploitation. While I personally watched 13 Reasons Why with a sick feeling in my stomach, mainly unable to actually watch the rape scenes, the same cannot be said for everyone (remembering both that there is a category of pornography dedicated to rape fantasies as well as the mere fact that rape is common).
And if the point of your narrative is to condemn rape, then why would you allow for rapists to enjoy it?
I’ll be the first to admit that there is always a grey area. While I have not seen I May Destroy You (Michaela Coel, 2020), I have heard that glimpses of rape are shown. But this is a show written by, directed by, and starring Michaela Coel – inspired by an event in her past. Saying Coel shouldn’t be allowed to tell her own story as she so chooses is clearly incorrect. I have also seen instances of visually depicted rape where the action starts as consensual sex and then turns into rape. Highlighting how such a change can occur and reinforcing that this act is rape, even if the start is consensual, is important and hard to narratively explain without a visual. So no, including visuals of rape does not automatically ruin a film or signal that the creatives are bad people (hence my use of “soft” words in my statement – such as “usually” and “probably”). However, it is often the case that such depictions are exploitative, whether intentional or not. And in our current society, rape and sexual assault are alarmingly prevalent, inadequately discussed, and (as I hope I just explained) horribly depicted in media. Therefore, I urge those who do not have experience with such traumas to refrain from at least the visual depiction – especially if they want to include it for shock value. For something as pervasive and alarmingly common as rape, we should be actively fighting against the perpetrators. Allowing any level of pleasure or enjoyment in rape and violation is immensely irresponsible.
Contributed By : Jo Urbinati
