PTSD – Bitch Flicks

‘Grey’s Anatomy’: Dr. Arizona Robbins, PTSD, and the Exploitation of Trauma for Shock Value

Dr. Arizona Robbins’ (Jessica Capshaw) leg injury, amputation, and subsequent PTSD in seasons 9 and 10 of ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ was depicted for shock value and entertainment. As a result, the narrative surrounding Arizona’s recovery is insufficient and flawed, ignoring the extent of the real mental health challenges she faces, ultimately blaming Arizona for her inability to completely recover mentally and emotionally from the trauma she experiences.

This guest post written by Madison Zehmer appears as part of our theme week on Unpopular Opinions.

[Trigger warning: discussion of rape, trauma, and PTSD]

Shonda Rhimes, the creator of Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How to Get Away with Murder, is known for putting her characters in unpredictable, shocking, and even tragic situations. Over the course of Grey’s Anatomy’s 13 seasons, the surgeons of Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital have faced a bomb explosion, a shooting, a plane crash, and multiple car crashes. Major characters, including Derek Shepherd, Mark Sloan, George O’Malley, and Lexie Grey, have been killed, and others have experienced serious physical and mental health problems as a result of the tragedies they have endured.

Because Rhimes and the writers of Grey’s Anatomy choose to put their characters in situations that in real life would yield enormous consequences, the writers arguably have a responsibility to portray the character’s responses to these events as realistically and honestly as possible. The writers also have to be careful not to exploit serious issues, such as posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), for the sole purpose of entertainment. Dr. Arizona Robbins’ (Jessica Capshaw) leg injury, amputation, and subsequent PTSD in seasons 9 and 10 of Grey’s Anatomy was depicted for shock value and entertainment. As a result, the narrative surrounding Arizona’s recovery is insufficient and flawed, ignoring the extent of the real mental health challenges she faces, ultimately blaming Arizona for her inability to completely recover mentally and emotionally from the trauma she experiences.

The plane crash at the end of season 8 of Grey’s Anatomy leaves two surgeons dead and the other four wounded. Arizona, a bubbly, lesbian, pediatric surgeon, suffers a serious injury to her left thigh. When the surviving surgeons are rescued after 4 days in the woods, the doctors that treat the survivors in the immediate aftermath recommend that Arizona undergo an amputation of the majority of her left leg. She refuses and goes back to Seattle, where her wife, orthopedic surgeon Dr. Callie Torres (Sara Ramirez), attempts to treat the infection in the wound without resorting to amputation. When Arizona began to go into septic shock while Callie is operating on Dr. Derek Shepherd’s injured hand, Callie reluctantly gives Dr. Alex Karev permission to amputate Arizona’s leg, knowing that Arizona would die without the procedure.

Over the course of a couple of weeks, Arizona’s life changes dramatically. Before the plane accident, she is an able-bodied, characteristically joyful mom and surgeon in a relatively happy marriage. The wreck, serious infection, and amputation greatly restrict her ability to function the way she had before the accident; the aspects of her life that she deems to be most important no longer seem to be guaranteed. Arizona begins to question whether she will be able to perform surgeries and adequately take care of her child in the future. As she is extremely angry at Callie because she believes Callie amputated her leg, she resists her wife’s efforts to help her and to motivate her.

In the wake of the accident, Arizona develops a flat affect and stops communicating with her friends and her wife. This is especially striking, because prior to the accident she was the token “happy” character on Grey’s Anatomy, known for her enthusiasm and cheer in less than ideal situations. In addition to a blunted affect, Arizona experiences multiple symptoms of PTSD after the accident, including outbursts of anger, nightmares, panic attacks, and impulsive behavior.

Because of the brain’s plasticity, traumatic events often cause connections in the brain to “rewire,” which can cause the dysregulation of Cortisol (often called the “stress hormone”) and other hormones and neurotransmitters and the reduction of hippocampal volume, among other neurological changes. PTSD is a mental disorder that is helped by medical treatment (medication, counselling, therapy), just like other disorders or illnesses.

Although Arizona clearly suffers from many of the symptoms of PTSD, she does not receive any psychiatric treatment or therapy. Since her wife and the majority of her friends are medical doctors, it is surprising that they do not suggest that she pursue treatment and that none of the plane crash survivors receive therapy. As Grey’s Anatomy has set a precedent of characters going to therapy (Meredith in season 3, Owen and Cristina in season 6), it is concerning that the writers chose to ignore that aspect of Arizona’s (and Cristina’s, Meredith’s, and Derek’s) recovery.

Additionally, Callie’s and Arizona’s exchange in the first episode of season 9 is unsettling, demonstrating the attitude towards Arizona’s mental health that the show seems to take. Callie walks into their bedroom to find Arizona lying in a hospital bed, faced away from the door. Callie yells at Arizona to, “Get the hell out of bed and snap out of this!” Arizona turns to face Callie and replies as she pulls back a blanket to reveal her amputated leg, “Snap out of this?” Although it’s not inherently problematic for the series to show this exchange, it’s troublesome that they chose to perpetuate the idea that Arizona should have just “gotten over” her trauma without therapy. It’s also problematic that the writers used this scene to reveal the fact that Arizona had lost her leg, suggesting that the choice to put her character through this ordeal was for shock value.

In season 4, episode 7 of the Grey’s Anatomy spinoff Private Practice, Dr. Charlotte King is raped in her office by a patient. Although there are significant problems with this storyline (the rapist is a mentally unstable man who is a stranger to Charlotte, which perpetuates false stereotypes about rape and stigma surrounding mental illness), the Private Practice writers do a significantly better job in regards to the careful depiction of PTSD. KaDee Strickland, the actress who played Charlotte, Rhimes, and the writers consulted the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network (RAINN) to realistically depict the aftermath of Charlotte’s rape with care and sensitivity. Strickland agreed to the storyline only after being assured that the aftermath would be handled realistically and the trauma would not be forgotten in a couple of episodes. The impact of the trauma on Charlotte is clear and visible, if not always explicitly stated, for the rest of the show’s duration. In addition, Private Practice and RAINN released a PSA for rape survivors. Charlotte’s recovery is depicted with care and discernment, demonstrating that the writers are aware of the responsibility they have to ensure that the storyline does not exploit trauma for shock value or for entertainment.

If the Grey’s Anatomy writers had treated Arizona’s storyline in seasons 9 and 10 with the same sense of sensitivity and responsibility in approaching PTSD that the Private Practice writers treated Charlotte’s storyline, they would have been able to portray a significant issue often overlooked in media in a realistic and respectable way. However, Arizona’s amputation seems to serve as a plot device to create shock and tension in Callie’s and Arizona’s relationship.

Before the accident, Arizona already has a difficult time expressing her emotions. Her PTSD and resentment for Callie in the wake of the accident amplifies her tendency to keep her problems to herself. After she suffers from a miscarriage (only shown in flashback scenes) that also seems to exploit Arizona’s grief and feeling of a loss of control for shock value, Arizona ultimately ends up cheating on Callie with a visiting surgeon in the season finale of season 9.

It’s wrong for Arizona to cheat on Callie. However, the way Arizona is depicted in an extremely negative light for the beginning of season 10 paints Arizona as some sort of cold-hearted villain and Callie as the helpless victim. This is a gross over-simplification of the complicated problems in their relationship and the factors leading up to the infidelity, including Arizona’s amputation and PTSD (of which impulsive behavior is a symptom), Callie’s repeated insistence that Arizona “get over” the accident. Arizona and Callie end up getting back together for a short time and going to couple’s therapy (which – again – highlights that Arizona did not receive therapy in the wake of the plane crash) before ultimately deciding to divorce. Now in season 13, Arizona’s personality is very similar to her personality before the crash. Although this is probably ideal for many fans, the show now tends to overlook the fact that Arizona has a disability, erasing part of her identity, only bringing it up back again when it can add to the drama of the show.

The depiction of trauma in media can be very powerful and informative when done correctly. However, when trauma is exploited to shock the audience and create drama, the film or television series often ends up perpetuating dangerous ideas surrounding trauma. Arizona’s recovery from an amputation in the wake of a plane crash could have depicted PTSD honestly and explored issues people with disabilities face, but the storyline mostly just serves to advance the drama that Grey’s Anatomy is known for.

See also at Bitch Flicks:

Interracial Relationships on Grey’s Anatomy

A Love Letter to Dr. Callie Torres on Grey’s Anatomy

Being the Sun: Women and Power in Grey’s Anatomy Season 11

Madison Zehmer is a first-year student at Wake Forest University, where she studies psychology on the pre-med track. She enjoys writing in her spare time. You can find her at Twitter @maddieemz, where she mostly talks about politics and her love for cats.

The Courage to Cry: Men and Boys’ Emotions in ‘Naruto’

However, when boys are told that “boys don’t cry” and that men should “man up,” their emotions are not respected, and they often internalize this stigma, sometimes with devastating consequences. Of course, simply crying won’t cure a condition as severe as PTSD, but men being shown that they are not “weak” for experiencing emotions and needing help will undoubtedly aid in the road to recovery.

This post by Jackson Adler previously appeared at The Windowsill and appears here as part of our theme week on Masculinity. Cross-posted with permission.

CONTAINS SPOILERS for the Naruto franchise.

It’s still pretty rare to see boys and men cry in TV and film. Male characters shedding a tear or two has become slightly more common (thank you, Scandal), but rarely anything more, even when a character is grieving over the loss of a loved one. TV and film, with or without intention, often spread the stigma against men and boys expressing powerful emotions in healthy ways such as crying. According to Dr. Christia Brown in her Psychology Today article “Boys Who Cry Might Have It All Figured Out,” “For boys, they are taught that sadness is not okay, and expressing sadness is definitely not okay. But emotions don’t evaporate, they have to be expressed somehow. For boys, an acceptable emotion is anger. They can fight, [and] show aggression.” If emotions are channeled into verbal or physical violence, such as when men with PTSD become physically abusive to their partners or spouses (such as in the case of Sir Patrick Stewart’s father), the consequences can be absolutely devastating, and sometimes fatal. This is not to say that anger should be ignored or that anger cannot be expressed in a healthy and non-abusive manner. For example, righteous anger at injustice leads many into lives of activism in which they create positive changes in their communities. However, when boys are told that “boys don’t cry” and that men should “man up,” their emotions are not respected, and they often internalize this stigma, sometimes with devastating consequences. Of course, simply crying won’t cure a condition as severe as PTSD, but men being shown that they are not “weak” for experiencing emotions and needing help will undoubtedly aid in the road to recovery.

For these reasons, I am proud of Kishimoto Masashi, the man who created the Naruto manga series, for creating male characters who unabashedly cry, and who are emotionally supported by their peers when they express their emotions in this way. His manga series, which will conclude on Nov. 10, has since been adapted into two anime series (Naruto and Naruto Shippuden) and several animated films. In Naruto, a story that is set among militarized warrior states and focuses on the ninja who act as their soldiers, men and boys, whether soldiers or civilians, experience severe trauma and great loss. Most of the scenes when a male character cries take place when that character is grieving over the loss of a loved one, but a number also take place when a character is emotionally touched, when they are pleading for the protection of a loved one, when they are seeking forgiveness, when they are lonely, or when they are tortured, persecuted, bullied, or ostracized. When these characters express their emotions through crying, they are not emasculated in the slightest. Heroes, villains, gray-area characters, top-notch soldiers, political leaders, medical professionals, and average civilians all cry in Naruto.

Even the most powerful and intimidating of characters are told by their peers that it is all right for them to cry, and are shown empathy and support. In Naruto Shippuden in the episode “Disappearance,” the characters Itachi and Kisame, elite members of the terrorist organization Akatsuki, receive a false report that Itachi’s younger brother has been killed. When Itachi steps out into the rain for what seems to be a private moment, Kisame says to Itachi, “I don’t know what someone as cold as you could be thinking right now, but from here, you look as though you are crying.” Far from mocking him, Kisame goes on to say, “It’s too bad about your younger brother,” and expresses that it must be lonely for Itachi to be “the sole survivor of [his] clan.” Though Itachi then reveals that he knows the information they received is false, it is a surprising moment of closeness and support between characters whose professions are so violent.

The storyline of the Naruto franchise is an action/fantasy one about a boy named Naruto, who trains to be a ninja and to serve his country. Like Naruto, many of the characters in the story are children who have been affected by war and are trained to become child soldiers. Though the story is written for children, and even contains a fair amount of slapstick and goofy humor, it certainly does not shy away from serious content. “War is hell,” one character says. Many of the child characters experience severe trauma, often, but not always, from war, long before they are permitted to fight in combat. Naruto’s grows up rather alone, even being ostracized and otherwise bullied by his community, and the second main character, Sasuke, who is Naruto’s friend and rival, and Itachi’s younger brother, witnessed the murder of his parents and the genocide of his clan when he was very young.

Naruto wears his heart on his sleeve, and cries often in the story, which frequently stems from his great amount of empathy and love for others. Naruto cries in the first episode when he overhears his teacher Iruka say to another teacher that he believes in Naruto, and Naruto realizes that someone cares about him after all. Sasuke cries much more rarely, often feigning indifference instead, but frequently channels his emotions into rage or violence. Much of the story revolves around Naruto and other characters trying to help Sasuke to heal, to connect with others, and to let go of rage, violence, and an all-consuming, overwhelming, and relentless quest for revenge. Sasuke and a number of other characters in Naruto either start the story with signs of PTSD or develop symptoms of it along the way.

The Naruto manga series ends in only a few weeks, and has culminated in a confrontation between Sasuke and Naruto. They each have the same goal – to make the world a better, more loving, and more peaceful place. Sasuke believes that he has to take the fate of the world on his own shoulders, and that he cannot ask for help. Naruto hopes to help Sasuke to see that he does not have to face all the pain and hatred in the world, and in himself, on his own. Many men are afraid to ask for help or support when they need it because of the stigma that they are weak if they do. Their emotions and healthy expressions of them are often ignored or mocked. Naruto sets a good example for everyone – that crying, that suffering, and that asking for help do not make a person weak. Naruto is also a good example of someone who shows empathy and support for others’ emotions and needs. I certainly hope that more people emulate Naruto and reach out to those is pain, and that those is pain start to feel comfortable asking for help and expressing themselves in a healthy way. Naruto is a hero who cries, who suffers, and who helps others. If there were more heroes like that in the media, maybe the stigma against men crying or asking for help would cease.

Jackson Adler is a transmasculine aromantic bi/pansexual skinny white middle class dude with an Auditory Processing Disorder and a Weak Working Memory who enjoys cartoons, musical theatre, and vegan boba drinks. Jackson has a BA in Theater, and is a writer, activist, performer, director, teacher, and dramaturge.

Everything’s Coming up Braverman in ‘Parenthood’

‘Parenthood’ is about showing us rounded human beings, triumphantly showing us their strengths and compassionately portraying their weaknesses. The interconnectedness and communication of this family is inspiring, and the series is always true to its characters’ unique psychology.

Everyone gathered 'round the Parenthood table — Everyone gathered ’round the *Parenthood* table

Written by Amanda Rodriguez.
Spoiler Alert

Despite my largely cynical personality, I found myself really enjoying the NBC TV series Parenthood. The show follows the intergenerational lives of the Braverman family living in Berkeley, California. The family is very close-knit, helping each other raise children, weather difficult times, and answer tough questions. Sometimes bordering on goody-goody or saccharine sweetness, the show mostly impresses me with the breadth of important issues addressed and the true-to-life character depth and psychology.

First, let’s address the ways in which Parenthood falls short. The cast is predominantly white. Crosby (Dax Shepard) marries a Black woman, Jasmine (Joy Bryant), and they have two children together, who constitute most of the non-white main characters on the show.

With a cast that big, mainly casting periphery characters of color is a missed opportunity to dig into the intersection of race, culture, class, and family. Though in a limited, somewhat unsatisfactory way, the show does, however, capitalize on Crosby and Jasmine’s life together to delve into issues of interracial family. In a plotline about interracial dating, Adam (Peter Krause) and Christina’s daughter, Haddie, dates a young, Black man, which they forbid under the guise of his age and experience, when it’s clearly more about their discomfort with his class and race. It’s unclear whether or not the show truly acknowledges the racism of Haddie’s parents.

Parenthood also intersects race, class, and adoption themes when Julia and Joel adopt Victor (Xolo Maridueña), an abandoned 10-year-old Latino. Though the way the Braverman clan embraces Julia and Joel’s new son wholeheartedly is full of warmth and humanity, Victor’s representation brings into high relief the lack of class diversity depicted on the show. Though the character Sarah Braverman (Lauren Graham) struggles with money, she has the wealth and home of her parents to fall back on.

The entire Braverman clan comes out for Victor's adoption day — The entire Braverman clan comes out for Victor’s adoption day

I waited five whole seasons for them to introduce a queer character. We all thought it would be young Drew, the quiet, sensitive younger brother of Amber and son of Sarah. Nope! In the very last episode of the most recent season (Season 5), Parenthood showed a long absent Haddie (Sarah Ramos), home from college, in love with a woman.

Haddie kissed a girl...and she liked it — Haddie kissed a girl…and she liked it

Talk about a token LGBTQ character. She’s not even on the show anymore! It felt like Parenthood wanted to show us it was down with the gays without having to deal with any of the issues, hardships, or questions that come with being a young, queer woman in the US. Haddie also dated Alex, a Black man, so the implication is that she’s boundary-pushing and possibly a LUG. Not cool, Parenthood. Not cool.

Haddie Kiss Parenthood — Props for NBC’s on-screen lesbian kiss

Its shortcomings with regard to race, class, and sexuality mean that Parenthood disappointingly represents a narrow, unrealistic demographic of people. Though that seems like a massive fail, now we get to talk about the ways in which Parenthood succeeds. As I already referenced, the show deals with adoption and infertility with its Victor storyline. Not only that, but tackling the “C word,” the gentle-natured Christina (Monica Potter) is diagnosed with breast cancer. While Christina eventually goes into remission, she struggles with sickness, lack of energy, a desire to see her children through their challenges, loss of self-esteem, the death of close friends who also have cancer, and, most importantly, her own agency, her own ability to choose how she will live, how she will face cancer, and how she will prepare herself and her family for her potential death.

Christina shaves her head while undergoing chemotherapy

Fear, insecurity, trust, and love are repeatedly called into question when Parenthood deals with infidelity. We see Camille and Zeek secretly separated before they slowly repair their marriage due to an affair Zeek (Craig T. Nelson) had, showing how time, history, and forgiveness are crucial to any long-term relationship. We see Crosby destroy and slowly rebuild his family when he sleeps with Gaby (Minka Kelly), Max’s aide, which highlights how Crosby needed to grow up, accept responsibility for his actions and choices, and become more steadfast in his relationships. We see Adam and Christina weather a kiss Adam’s assistant, Rachel (Alexandra Daddario), plants on him during a rainstorm, showcasing the need for honesty and compassion within a marriage. The series primarily features male partners transgressing against their female partners, but in the most painful and drawn out indiscretion of all, we see Julia kiss another man and lie about it for a time, which leads to a separation and a difficult custody situation.

Julia and Ed acknowledge their shared attraction

Both characters are sympathetic: Julia (Erika Christensen) is desperate, lonely, and feels invisible, while Joel (Sam Jaeger) feels betrayed and unsupported by his wife in the pursuit of his career. We can also see both of their faults in the situation: Julia is selfish and can’t handle being a stay-at-home mom even though she rashly quit her job, and Joel is rigidly unforgiving and untrusting, refusing to communicate or work on their underlying marital troubles. It’s rare to see an honest, balanced, yet sympathetic portrayal of a drowning relationship due to infidelity.

Parenthood features a teen abortion without judgement. Drew’s (Miles Heizer) girlfriend, Amy (Skyler Day), becomes pregnant. Amy decides to get an abortion, and Drew, in his awkward, teenage way, tries to support her choice and be there for her. Despite his attempts to be a good boyfriend, their youthful relationship disintegrates as a result of the very adult situation they find themselves in. My major complaint is that much of this happens from the perspective of Drew, and we only get glimpses of how Amy feels and how, over a year later when Amy and Drew reconnect, Amy is still troubled by the secret she keeps from her family.

Drew and Amy's relationship falls apart after her abortion — Drew and Amy’s relationship falls apart after her abortion

One of Parenthood‘s pet issues is Asperger syndrome and more broadly autism spectrum. In Season 1, Adam and Christina’s son, Max (Max Burkholder) is diagnosed with Asperger’s. Together, the family rally, compassionately supporting Max to give him structure, safety, and a quality education that doesn’t discriminate against him. Later on, the show introduces Hank (Ray Romano), a love interest of Sarah and a mentor for Max, who is pained to discover that he, like Max, is autism spectrum.

Max and Hank share their love of photography

The series strives to show that despite the very real challenges they face, neither Max nor Hank are incapable of normal lives or of being loved. There aren’t a whole lot of representations of autism spectrum individuals that don’t tokenize them as a “character with a disability”–certainly very few make them primary characters on TV, and even fewer cast them as love interests.

I was impressed with the very real, honest depictions of addiction, in particular the plight of the loved ones of addicts. Sarah’s ex-husband, Seth (John Corbett), is an addict and an absentee father. He flits in and out of his children’s lives, promising to change and disappointing them each time. Amber (brilliantly, viscerally performed by Mae Whitman) is so sensitive that when we meet her, she is acting out, a lost teen with little self-worth who’s hardened her heart to her deadbeat dad, while her younger brother, Drew, yearns for his father, constantly forgiving him and eternally holding out hope that he’ll have a real relationship with his father this time. Sarah, herself, never gives up on Seth, and (while I think it’s unrealistic that Seth does, in fact, go to rehab and eventually maintains his recovery since it happens more often than not that people don’t ever recover) the Holt family exemplifies dysfunction and the behavioral patterns of living with an addict.

Drew finds his wasted father playing a show

For example, Sarah can’t ever choose the potential partner who has his shit together. She’s always drawn to the one who needs her most. Amber also grows up to embody this same trait when she falls in love with deeply troubled war veteran, Ryan (Matt Lauria). Ryan’s storyline allows Parenthood to delve into PTSD as well as the way in which veterans come home haunted. While I’m disappointed that the show has yet to explore PTSD as a result of sexual violence and/or trauma (especially considering how real that storyline is for so, so many people, especially women), Ryan’s arc and the way in which it intersects with Amber’s is crucial for revealing to us how much she’s internalized that responsibility of caring for someone who isn’t healthy.

Ryan nearly dies as a result of his PTSD motivated reckless behavior — Ryan nearly dies as a result of his PTSD-motivated reckless behavior

One storyline that I’ve been incredibly pleased to see is that of Camille (Bonnie Bedelia), the matriarch of the Braverman family. Her family takes her for granted and neglects her needs, invalidating her as a human being. They’ve so cast her in the role of “wife” and “mother” that they don’t see her as anything but an extension of themselves. This is clear in the resistance she meets from the entire clan when she wants to explore her love of painting on an extended, solo trip to Italy followed by her family’s baffled disbelief that she wants to sell the house in order to travel more and not be weighed down by that behemoth of a home. I’ve not often seen a story like this that calls out husbands and children for forgetting that their wives and mothers are human beings with separate hopes and desires.

Zeek realizes his love for Camille is the most important thing in his life

Bottom line, Parenthood is about showing us rounded human beings, triumphantly showing us their strengths and compassionately portraying their weaknesses. The interconnectedness and communication of this family is inspiring, and the series is always true to its characters’ unique psychology, revealing to us that every choice each of them makes is connected in a subtle way. If Season 6 would show us more race, class, and LGBTQ diversity, Parenthood would go from being a really good series to a really great one.

Bitch Flicks writer and editor Amanda Rodriguez is an environmental activist living in Asheville, North Carolina. She holds a BA from Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio and an MFA in fiction writing from Queens University in Charlotte, NC. She writes all about food and drinking games on her blog Booze and Baking. Fun fact: while living in Kyoto, Japan, her house was attacked by monkeys.

Rape Culture on ‘Downton Abbey’

Continually insisting that rapists can only be unfathomably monstrous Others and virtual strangers who physically brutalize their victims serves to hide who the real rapists are: brothers, sons, fathers, husbands, friends, and colleagues. Anna’s bruises serve to delegitimize the experiences of survivors who don’t bear a physical mark of the absence of their consent. We need a wider representation of the range of survivor experiences when it comes to rape and sexual assault so that we can begin to dismantle rape culture and develop a system that is capable of identifying rapists and that values the stories of survivors.

"Downton Abbey" 2014 — *Downton Abbey* 2014

Written by Amanda Rodriguez

Trigger Warning: Rape, Sexual Assault

Spoiler Alert

Building off my recent critique Rape Culture, Trigger Warnings, and Bates Motel, I have a bone to pick with Downton Abbey‘s infamous rape of its beloved character, the lady’s maid Anna Bates (Joanne Froggatt). I’m not alone in my sentiments that Downton Abbey handled the rape scene poorly. However, where most simply question the use of rape as a plot device, I think that showing rape is an important, underrepresented part of the human experience (particularly the female experience), but I question the value of the way in which the show depicted Anna’s rape as well as its aftermath. Not only that, but Anna’s rape was not the first on Downton Abbey (more on that later).

For context, Mr. Green temporarily enters the Downton household as the valet of Lord Gillingham, a guest of the estate. He and Anna immediately have an easy, flirtatious friendship of which Mr. Bates, her husband, is wary because he’s suspicious of the quality of Green’s character. While the household is occupied by an opera performance, Green corners Anna, beats her, and rapes her. Anna keeps it a secret for much of the season due to her fear of what her husband will do in retaliation, and she even lies about the circumstances of the incident once the rape comes to light, claiming it was an anonymous burglar.

Anna pleads with Mrs. Hughes to keep her rape a secret to protect her husband, Mr. Bates

Like my critique of Bates Motel, I feel strongly that Downton Abbey should have included an explicit trigger warning prior to the episode. Though Downton warned that there would be “violent” content, that’s not really illustrative enough to let rape and sexual assault survivors know what they’re in for. Even though friends had warned me that there was a rape in Season 4, I was taken off-guard by the scene. Like with Bates Motel, my PTSD was triggered, and I had to turn off the show. After a couple of weeks, I forced myself to finish the season because I’m a Downton fan, and I really hoped that the writers would develop the aftermath of Anna’s brutalization in an honest way that would add to the conversation about sexual assault and give a voice to the experience of survivors. That said, our culture needs to start showing a bit more sensitivity towards survivors by not casually re-traumatizing us or putting us in danger of being triggered. Even though I’m the most vocal protestor of spoilers, I still say, “Fuck the surprise of drama; give me the choice of whether or not I want to watch triggering media. Give me the choice of peace of mind.”

Anna, bruised and beaten, after she was raped

Anna’s rape is excessively, unrealistically violent. Mr. Green cuts, bruises, and bloodies the face of a highly visible lady’s maid. How does he think she will explain away those bruises? The bruises act as a symbol to the viewer that Anna did not give consent; they are a testament to the truthfulness of her claims, a mark on her body that reflects the horrors that were done to her. Many women don’t have those kinds of marks, but their claims are no less truthful. Anti-rape campaigner Bidisha ShonarKoli Mamata says, “You can’t just insert a scene like this into a cosy drama. You have to treat rape sensitively, rather than use it as a plot device…Instead of focusing on the impact of the violence on Mrs Bates, it repeated basic rape myths, such as the idea rapists are always creepy guys. In fact, they are normal people and are often related to the victim.”

Continually insisting that rapists can only be unfathomably monstrous Others and virtual strangers who physically brutalize their victims serves to hide who the real rapists are: brothers, sons, fathers, husbands, friends, and colleagues. Anna’s bruises serve to delegitimize the experiences of survivors who don’t bear a physical mark of the absence of their consent. We need a wider representation of the range of survivor experiences when it comes to rape and sexual assault so that we can begin to dismantle rape culture and develop a system that is capable of identifying rapists and that values the stories of survivors.

The writers selected Anna to be raped because her character is beyond reproach, and no one would doubt the authenticity of her claims. The Telegraph describes Anna as “a model of respectability, stoicism and goodness.” There still exists the niggling subtext that she was “asking for it” because of her flirtatious relationship with Mr. Green despite Mr. Bates’ spider senses tingling about how Green was a bad dude.

Anna gives Mr. Green a defiant kiss in front of Mr. Bates

Though Downton Abbey punishes Anna for being flirtatious and for not listening to the wisdom of her husband’s judgement, the show wanted to depict an uncomplicated rape where Green was an outsider and villain while Anna was without a doubt the victim of a heinous crime. Now that, my friends, is lazy storytelling. If Downton Abbey wanted to be true to its time (and our time, for that matter), it would’ve created a scenario in which the the victim was generally not believed and in which the perpetrator was someone she knew and would have to encounter on a regular basis. In the Express article, “Brutal truth behind that shocking Downton rape scene,” Dr. Pamela Cox observes: “A maid who complained of rape displayed knowledge of things she was not supposed to know about and was liable to be thought partly to blame.” It would’ve been better storytelling that reflected more realism if another servant or one of the house’s lords had attacked Anna. Though Green comes back a few times, this is a device solely to torment Anna and ramp up the drama rather than give a realistic depiction of a woman being forced to interact with her rapist on a regular basis, which happened all too often back then and continues to happen all too often now.

Mr. Bates comforts his wife after learning that she was raped

Season 4 of Downton Abbey actually has a couple of character interactions that could have more realistically ended in sexual assault. The relationship between Mrs. Braithwaite and Branson could have been fruitful territory for exploration of themes of rape, victim blaming, and the sheer unlikelihood of false accusations of rape. Branson’s new lord-like status makes it harder for a servant to say “no” to him without facing repercussions. What if Braithwaite changed her mind about her scheming, and a drunken Branson took advantage of her? I thought he behaved disgustingly after the incident, without a sense of his own responsibility in the affair, and he is only “redeemed” because Braithwaite was manipulating him all along. What if she hadn’t been, though? In the end, the fact that she’s a social climber doesn’t make a difference when it comes to consent, but perhaps Downton could have shined a light on its audience’s internalized prejudices and victim-blaming propensities with a nuance-rich storyline.

Another relationship that nearly ends in rape is that of Jimmy and Ivy. He tries to force himself on her at the end of a date, claiming that she owes him for how well he’s treated her and for the things that he’s bought for her. Having Jimmy be a rapist and a relatively well-liked part of the household, whom Ivy would be forced to interact with daily would be a more compelling, realistic scenario than that of Anna’s rape.

Jimmy & Ivy's romance sours when he tries to rape her — Jimmy and Ivy’s romance sours when he tries to rape her

The aftermath of Anna’s rape was full of painful truth in the way in which the violation haunts her. In an agonizing, heartbreaking scene, Anna says to Mr. Bates, “I’m spoiled for you, and I can never be unspoiled.” I was, however, disappointed by Bates’ obsession with his own revenge as if Anna is his property and he must exact justice. In fact, the aftermath of the rape is almost entirely about Mr. Bates. Anna seeks to protect him from the knowledge for fear of what he will do. Once he finds out, Bates ignores her wishes and kills Green, ostensibly to avenge his wife’s “honor”, but doesn’t it matter that Anna explicitly asked him to leave it alone? The rape happened to her; she should be the one who decides how she wants to deal with it. Only Season 5 will tell, but it seems like Anna’s distress completely dissipates with Green’s death, which is a ridiculous simplification of the arduous road to recovery from PTSD that Anna must face. If Season 5 does not continue to chart Anna’s struggles with PTSD, Downton will have failed to bring to light an important and timeless point about the psychology of human beings, in particular survivors of traumatic events.

Anna and Bates trying to forget about her rape for an evening

Now, earlier I mentioned another rape, and it’s probably been killing you trying to figure out what I’m talking about, which is a problem in and of itself. Mary Crawley’s (Michelle Dockery) “illicit affair” with Mr. Pamuk was also a rape, but it slides under the radar because she’s not violently attacked and she takes responsibility, as many victims do, for what has happened to her. Mary actively and repeatedly denies consent to the man who forces a kiss on her and later steals into her bedroom determined to get what he wants regardless of her protestations.

[youtube_sc url=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91PhbrNJDKc”]

The rape of Lady Mary is actually a type of rape that I think mainstream media should show more often: a rape in which there is no hitting or screaming, the victim says “no,” and because of her initial attraction to him, feels as if she’s led him on or that it is somehow her fault. Points for Downton then? Um, no. Though Mary is the victim of sexual assault, the show itself doesn’t read her as such. Though the audience is led to recognize the inequality women face and the cruelty inherent in a woman’s single indiscretion perhaps ruining her future and good name, Downton Abbey does not focus on the fact that a man broke into her room and didn’t listen to her when she repeatedly said, “no.” Also, what a missed opportunity to show Mary and Anna share survivor stories and comfort, forming their own healing community together.

Mary is horrified when Mr. Pamuk comes into her room

Downton Abbey and its writers are guilty of a gross negligence that is all too common. If someone says “no” to sex, then it is rape. Period. There is no nuance when it comes to consent. This is what Hollywood has such a hard time with and why they insist on only showing shockingly violent rapes that virtual strangers perpetrate. Why? Because if we acknowledge that rape occurs within many contexts needing only the criteria that the victim say “no”, how many men would then be rapists? How many women and others would then be survivors of sexual assault or rape? How many people would we have to now believe when they claim they were raped? A shocking number. A staggeringly, shocking number. In the US alone, 1 in 5 women will be raped. Three percent of men will be raped. An estimated 1.3 million women will be raped each year, and 97 percent of rapists will never see the inside of a jail cell. Pretending there’s not a problem doesn’t make the problem go away. Instead, it becomes more ubiquitous and insidious until it’s a pandemic. I don’t want to live in a world where rape is the norm and survivors are liars who were asking for it, and I mean, really, do you? We’ve got a long battle ahead of us, but each of us can start by acknowledging that rape culture exists, accepting that survivors are never asking for it, and believing that survivors are telling the truth.

Amanda Rodriguez is an environmental activist living in Asheville, North Carolina. She holds a BA from Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio and an MFA in fiction writing from Queens University in Charlotte, NC. She writes all about food and drinking games on her blog Booze and Baking. Fun fact: while living in Kyoto, Japan, her house was attacked by monkeys.

Rape Culture, Trigger Warnings, and ‘Bates Motel’

A lot of rapes that occur on film and TV are unnecessary and unrealistic while subtly serving to punish the rape victim, to pruriently show the dehumanization of victims (most frequently women), and to trigger audience members who are survivors. A show like ‘Bates Motel’ that so cavalierly uses a tired and painful device in its first episode is definitely not worth my time.

"Bates Motel" Drawing — *Bates Motel* drawing

Written by Amanda Rodriguez
Trigger Warning: Rape, Sexual Assault

Since I really liked Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho when I was younger, I decided to give the A&E prequel series Bates Motel a try. Despite that the cinematography was rich, the actors were quality, and the atmosphere was a great mix of foreboding while paradoxically retro and contemporary, I was roughly halfway through the first episode when I turned it off and washed my hands of it. What makes me think I can give a worthwhile review of a series that I watched for only 20-30 minutes? A rape occurs in that first episode about halfway in, and I know enough about TV formulas, characterizations, and plotlines to safely determine that this rape was gratuitous. A lot of rapes that occur on film and TV are unnecessary and unrealistic while subtly serving to punish the rape victim, to pruriently show the dehumanization of victims (most frequently women), and to trigger audience members who are survivors. A show like Bates Motel that so cavalierly uses a tired and painful device in its first episode is definitely not worth my time.

I generally think rating systems, especially Hollywood’s, are for the birds (maybe even the Hitchcockian birds… har, har). The MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) is a joke with its Catholic priest sitting in on viewings along with its hatred of all things involving female pleasure (check out the documentary This Film Is Not Yet Rated to learn more about the secret society that is America’s rating board). I’ve been known to gleefully watch trailers, waiting for the rating description only to scoff, mock, and laugh. My personal favorite is still, “Some scenes of teen partying.” However, maybe I wouldn’t mind a system that cued its viewers in a way that, say, the new Swedish rating system does by integrating the now famous Bechdel Test to judge the level of female involvement in a film. If we’re going to be given a heads up about a film or TV show’s content prior to watching it, there should absolutely be a trigger warning system. The number of survivors of PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) seems to be growing every day, so the compassionate, responsible thing to do would be to let viewers know if there are scenes of combat violence, sexual assault, child abuse, etc.

To give you an idea of the visceral response seeing certain triggering acts on film can cause in someone with PTSD, I’m going to describe to you what happened to me while watching the scene in Bates Motel where Norma Bates was attacked and raped in her home. The former owner of the Bates property, Keith Summers, breaks into the Bates house when Norma is home alone. He attacks her with a knife, brutally beats her, and rapes her. The familiar prickling of my skin and elevated heart rate kicked in when it became clear that Keith was planning to rape Norma. My thoughts were racing; I kept telling myself that she would get away, that she would fuck his shit up because she’s a manipulative murderess, but that didn’t happen. As Keith raped Norma, I found myself in a blind panic, yelling aloud, “STOP! STOP! STOP!” while crawling across the floor to get to the TV to turn it off because I no longer had the motor functions required to walk or use a remote control. After turning off the TV, I sat on the floor, breathing heavily, staring off in a daze. I did housework then, trying to calm down, trying to lift the feeling of dark ooze filling up inside me. After several hours of this, I was lucky enough to have a kind and perceptive friend call me, discern something was wrong, and let me vent about how upsetting and unnecessary the scene was.

I ask you, should anyone be forced to go through that? I’ve continued to be bothered by that scene days later and outraged enough to be compelled to write about it. If there had been a warning at the beginning of the episode that it contained scenes of sexual violence, I would’ve been prepared or, more likely, chosen to watch something else.

Despite the fact that I was triggered by this scene, I have thought and thought about it as objectively as possible to discern whether or not the scene did have value, and my conclusion is that Norma’s rape was, in fact, a broad application of a storytelling technique that is overkill. The scene is designed to render Norma helpless and to give justification to her future actions and neuroses. Guess what? Norma was already crazy before she was raped; she may or may not have murdered her husband, and he may or may not have been an abusive asshole. She already had an unhealthily sexual relationship with her son as evinced by her jealousy, possessiveness, and physicality with him. Not only that, but home invasions are traumatic events on their own. Having her home broken into and being beaten and knifed by a man are all enough to give Norma PTSD and to incite dysfunctionality. We already have all the justification for her behavior here without having Norma raped as a cheap plot device.

What is the function, then, of having Norma raped? Would this have happened if young Norman, instead, was home alone and Keith had attacked? It’s hard to see Norma’s rape as anything other than bringing a powerful woman low, turning her into an object that is acted upon, divesting her of her status as a subject. I also can’t help but see Norma’s rape as an intended lesson for Norman. After Norma told him he couldn’t go out, Norman climbed out of his window to hangout at a party with some cute girls. Knowing his mother was attacked and raped and he wasn’t around to stop it does more to service the forwarding of Norman’s feelings of responsibility and male protectiveness towards his mother, which I think still would’ve been possible if Norma suffered a home invasion and not a rape. This means Norma’s rape isn’t even about her. Talk about lack of subjectivity.

Norma’s rape is also problematic in the same way that many Hollywood depictions of rape are: they are intensely physically violent. Of course, rapes like that occur, and, of course, strangers rape people they’ve never met, but these things don’t happen with nearly the frequency their coverage by mainstream film and TV would lead us to believe. In addition to Bates Motel, some key examples of these physically brutal rapes are: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Downton Abbey, House of Cards (the rape is described by the survivor…not shown), Leaving Las Vegas, I Spit on Your Grave, and Straw Dogs (a Peckinpah film that caused massive controversy and was banned in the UK because the rape victim actually began to enjoy her rape). The list goes on and on. The problem with rape scenes like these are that they obscure and delegitimize rapes that are perpetuated without physical abuse. As far as the media is concerned, rapes where the victim is beaten are more cut-and-dry. The rape that occurs between friends or a married couple where the victim simply says “no” are apparently more questionable as to whether or not the victim “wanted it.” Depictions of such monstrous acts make it hard to see our fathers, brothers, husbands, and friends as rapists, but, most of the time, that’s who they are, not the psychotic strangers Hollywood would have use believe in.

This mentality and this refusal to show the true gamut of situations in which rape and sexual assault occur is harmful to survivors. Because their rape didn’t involve slapping and screaming, it takes a long time for many survivors to even acknowledge and accept that they were raped. Many survivors doubt that their claims will be believed. Many survivors’ claims aren’t believed. This allows many perpetrators to go free without any consequences, and because there was no kicking and crying, I suspect many perpetrators don’t even believe that they are rapists. Isn’t that a scary thought? We value nuance and realism in film and TV characterization; why don’t we place the same value on the varied experience of survivors? Rape culture insists that we only see a narrow representation of rape because if we admit that rape occurs in so many different contexts and with so many different circumstances, then we must admit that rape is a pandemic, that survivors are telling the truth, and that we need to do something about it.

——-