With its deliciously nasty title and salacious video sleeve, Meir Zarchi's (arguably) misunderstood drama I Spit on Your Grave was bound to get caught up in the moral panic over horror videos in the early 80s. There is no doubt about it, though: Zarchi's film is at times incredibly unpleasant to watch – I'm referring, of course, to the lengthy series of graphic rape scenes that make up around 20 minutes of the movie's first act. However, if one can overlook the length of this section (to which I will return shortly) then hopefully one can see I Spit for what it actually is: a well-shot, well-paced and intensely dramatic movie. Perhaps if the film hadn't been given such a sensationalistic alternate title it may have developed a more serious reputation; saying that, its undeniably exploitative plot and the overall effect was always going to work against it.
The plot of I Spit is both rudimentary and highly familiar: a beautiful writer, Jennifer Hills (Keaton), arrives at an idyllic country retreat to write her next novel. There, she is harassed and ultimately attacked by a group of moronic louts, who think they've left her for dead at the house. However, Jennifer recovers and, without even bothering with the police, plots her violent revenge...
There was a time when defending this film would cause intense suspicion, but thanks to the passage of time and a glossy Hollywood remake, the original can now be defended without being branded a sick individual. First, let's consider the film's few flaws. A suitable starting point would be the duration of the rape section, which is for many viewers unnecessarily long. I'm going to gloss over the issue of eroticism, which is neither the point nor the effect of this section (granted, this is true of the video sleeve), an argument which has already been convincingly won by academics such as Carol Clover. What is open to debate, though, is whether this sequence needs to be so long. Jennifer is raped not once but on four separate occasions, each sequence more traumatic and horrific than the last. On the one hand, one can argue that the length of this section is a crucial misjudgement on the director's part, a misjudgement that opens him up to the charge of morbid fascination with the act of rape. This sequence would probably be just as harrowing if it was cut down to ten or even five minutes, but in its uncut form it does seem unnecessarily long. On the other hand, one can argue that a rape scene should not let the viewer off the hook; surely the point is to emphasise the ugliness, the gruelling nature of the act? Indeed, it is only the audience's alignment with Jennifer (rather than the rapists) that stops this sequence from being gratuitously long and leering.
However, the one major flaw in the movie is the character of Matthew, the halfwit 'village idiot' character goaded by his friends into raping Jennifer. While there is nothing inherently wrong with this from a thematic point-of-view (Straw Dogs uses this motif to add complexity to a debate about human nature, for example), here the character comes straight out of a Farrelli Brothers movie: with his buttoned-up shirt and sailor hat, Matthew is a teenager's caricature of a 'retard' rather than a convincing character. This is not to say that the other gang members are brilliant portraits of rural cretinism (here the film certainly suffers in comparison to Deliverance); they're not, but they are sufficiently realised to explore male 'pack' types: the alpha male, the sadistic right hand man and the sheep who mindlessly joins in, all of whom (in this movie) see rape as both sport and as a means of suppressing (or taking out their resentment on) intelligent, independent and successful women.
Did this film deserve a place on the DPP list? Obviously this was (and still is) strong stuff, but it is certainly not obscene. More to the point, neither does it merit censorship in today's more liberal climate; the BBFC's decision to trim the rape sequence is unlikely to reduce its impact on actual or potential rapists, who would presumably find it stimulating regardless. One thing is for sure, if you are avoiding this film under the misapprehension that it is sleazy, rape-condoning trash, you may be surprised to discover a movie of considerable intelligence and skill inside the lurid packaging.
Film: **** Nastiness: ****
The plot of I Spit is both rudimentary and highly familiar: a beautiful writer, Jennifer Hills (Keaton), arrives at an idyllic country retreat to write her next novel. There, she is harassed and ultimately attacked by a group of moronic louts, who think they've left her for dead at the house. However, Jennifer recovers and, without even bothering with the police, plots her violent revenge...
There was a time when defending this film would cause intense suspicion, but thanks to the passage of time and a glossy Hollywood remake, the original can now be defended without being branded a sick individual. First, let's consider the film's few flaws. A suitable starting point would be the duration of the rape section, which is for many viewers unnecessarily long. I'm going to gloss over the issue of eroticism, which is neither the point nor the effect of this section (granted, this is true of the video sleeve), an argument which has already been convincingly won by academics such as Carol Clover. What is open to debate, though, is whether this sequence needs to be so long. Jennifer is raped not once but on four separate occasions, each sequence more traumatic and horrific than the last. On the one hand, one can argue that the length of this section is a crucial misjudgement on the director's part, a misjudgement that opens him up to the charge of morbid fascination with the act of rape. This sequence would probably be just as harrowing if it was cut down to ten or even five minutes, but in its uncut form it does seem unnecessarily long. On the other hand, one can argue that a rape scene should not let the viewer off the hook; surely the point is to emphasise the ugliness, the gruelling nature of the act? Indeed, it is only the audience's alignment with Jennifer (rather than the rapists) that stops this sequence from being gratuitously long and leering.
However, the one major flaw in the movie is the character of Matthew, the halfwit 'village idiot' character goaded by his friends into raping Jennifer. While there is nothing inherently wrong with this from a thematic point-of-view (Straw Dogs uses this motif to add complexity to a debate about human nature, for example), here the character comes straight out of a Farrelli Brothers movie: with his buttoned-up shirt and sailor hat, Matthew is a teenager's caricature of a 'retard' rather than a convincing character. This is not to say that the other gang members are brilliant portraits of rural cretinism (here the film certainly suffers in comparison to Deliverance); they're not, but they are sufficiently realised to explore male 'pack' types: the alpha male, the sadistic right hand man and the sheep who mindlessly joins in, all of whom (in this movie) see rape as both sport and as a means of suppressing (or taking out their resentment on) intelligent, independent and successful women.
Did this film deserve a place on the DPP list? Obviously this was (and still is) strong stuff, but it is certainly not obscene. More to the point, neither does it merit censorship in today's more liberal climate; the BBFC's decision to trim the rape sequence is unlikely to reduce its impact on actual or potential rapists, who would presumably find it stimulating regardless. One thing is for sure, if you are avoiding this film under the misapprehension that it is sleazy, rape-condoning trash, you may be surprised to discover a movie of considerable intelligence and skill inside the lurid packaging.
Film: **** Nastiness: ****
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