“I’ll Make You Feel Like You’ve Never Felt Before”: Jennifer’s Power in ‘I Spit on Your Grave’

No movies ever had to justify a cowboy going on a rogue revenge kick after his log cabin was burned to the ground or his family was killed; certain sufferings of injury, murder of loved ones, robbery, etc., have been accepted throughout cinematic history to merit revenge at all costs. ‘I Spit on Your Grave’ was a large part of a relatively new phenomenon, possibly born out of the feminist movement, to add rape—based on the woman’s experience of rape, whether validated by law or not—to that list of worthy harms, which is an important statement in our rape culture.

Jennifer, before she murders the final man
Jennifer, before she murders the final man

 

This guest post by Sophie Besl appears as part of our theme week on Rape Revenge Fantasies.

I got into exploitation films through Quentin Tarantino’s Kill Bill. I liked the Bride’s unapologetic rampage, and was thrilled to learn that Tarantino’s work emerged from a rich tradition of female-fronted films starting in the early 1970s. What interested me most was that this tradition was created by men for the entertainment of a predominately (young, urban) male audience. Yet these exploitation films, such as Coffy, Foxy Brown,[1] Lady Snowblood,[2] and dozens of low-budget slasher films[3] where the “last man standing” was almost always a woman, felt like some of the most empowering, pro-women films I had ever seen. No subgenre of exploitation films brings up the question of whether these films empower or exploit more so than the rape revenge genre. While there is evidence on both sides, as a feminist woman, I greatly enjoy films that follow this plot formula, seeing them as explorations of women’s potential to be fierce and powerful in the face of horrific abuse.[4]

I Spit on Your Grave, originally released as Day of the Woman[5] in the late 1970s, is to me the flagship film of the rape revenge genre. A woman named Jennifer rents a house in the country to spend some quiet time to herself writing and relaxing, but is trapped, tormented, raped, and almost killed by a group of four men from the small town. She then plans and exacts gruesome revenge on each of them. The film was torn apart by critics, yet decidedly not from a feminist angle. A review decrying the scene where Jennifer castrates one of her rapists as “one of the most appalling moments in cinema history,”[6] also calls out the double standard of sexual violence in film–rapes in other films, or even the rape of Jennifer earlier in the same film, did not rile up even close to the same level of distaste at the time it was released.

But while reviews were mixed for an understandably disturbing horror/exploitation film, this film importantly caused viewers to identify with a rape victim in ways previous films did not allow. In her book Men, Women, and Chain Saws, Professor Carol Clover suggests that I Spit on Your Grave is an example of the movement away from how rape was treated in films prior to the 70s, which typically caused the viewer to adopt the rapist’s point of view, such as with somewhat titillating close-ups of a woman’s face as she is strangled.[7] In this film, the viewer adopts Jennifer’s perspective. The camera reveals the ugliness and uncouthness of the male perpetrators from her point of view, and the acts are depicted in such a violent and unpleasant way that there is little discernable sexuality in the assaults. The filming reverses prior conventions in a way that could cause even male viewers to side with the victim rather than the rapists.

The bathtub scene
The bathtub scene

 

Another element that enables male viewers to identify with Jennifer is her victim-to-hero character, not commonly seen fully realized in female characters. Films from earlier in the century tend to have “victim” and “avenger” as separate characters—and often female- and male-gendered, respectively—but in rape revenge films, these roles are unified in one character. Without the “assumption that all viewers, male and female alike, will take Jennifer’s part, and…‘feel’ her violation…the revenge phase of the drama can make no sense” (Clover, 1992). If viewers want to cheer for Jennifer as a hero in the second half of the film, then they have inherently sided with her during her victimization in the first half.

Other than these new and progressive ways of considering female rape victims in film, I Spit on Your Grave provides three fantastic and thought-provoking elements:

The entire movie operates outside the realm of the law

Unlike many other rape revenge films (such as Last House on the Left, where the rapist is a criminal actively hunted by police; The Accused, which is entirely about the legal system and rape; or even the 2010 remake of I Spit on Your Grave, where one of the four men is a police officer), I Spit on Your Grave takes place without any sign of law enforcement. Jennifer does not go to the police after her attack. There is an interesting scene where she prays briefly at a church, but mostly the film recounts, somewhat objectively, the play by play of her attack, followed by the play by play of her revenge killings (though the trailer does proclaim “There isn’t a jury in this country that will convict her!”). No movies ever had to justify a cowboy going on a rogue revenge kick after his log cabin was burned to the ground or his family was killed; certain sufferings of injury, murder of loved ones, robbery, etc., have been accepted throughout cinematic history to merit revenge at all costs. I Spit on Your Grave was a large part of a relatively new phenomenon, possibly born out of the feminist movement, to add rape—based on the woman’s experience of rape, whether validated by law or not—to that list of worthy harms, which is an important statement in our rape culture.

Jennifer uses feminine seduction to exact her revenge

In rape revenge films, the feminine experience of rape often, notably, is the cause for the hero-victim to take on masculine qualities, such as low emotionality and physical brutality. However, in I Spit on Your Grave (while she is undoubtedly brutal in committing murder), Jennifer gets her first “victim” by softly entreating him, “I’ll give you something to remember for the rest of your life.” She actually begins to have intercourse with him (interestingly, he was the only one of the four men who did not want to assault her—he had been a virgin, is cognitively challenged, and caves to peer pressure) so she can slip a noose around his neck and hang him. She simply drives up to her next “victim” and beckons him into her car. He goes willingly because he believes she wants some more. When she pulls a gun on him, he tries to talk her out of shooting him. She complies and invites him back to her house, which he also willingly does due to her coy demureness. At her house, they take a bath together, and while touching him underwater saying, “Relax, I’ll make you feel like you’ve never felt before,” she subtly slips a knife into the tub and cuts his genitals off. Jennifer swims up to the next man’s boat in her bikini and seductively climbs in. Caught off guard, he is pushed into the water, and Jennifer kills him and the last man with an axe and the boat’s motor as they flounder. Her sexuality is her means of entering the situations that enable her to execute each man.

I find it interesting that the castration scene was removed in the remake (as was another such scene in the remake of Last House on the Left), and I’m not sure why. Castration seems to be on an equal plane with the level of violence in these films. (Was it too distasteful to male viewers? Something to think about.) There is also no seduction during the revenge in the remake, with Jennifer instead relying on torture/murder tactics similar to the Saw movies. While perhaps this rewrite to agendered violence is feminist in that she can use the same cunning, engineering, and brutality as men, I think the significance of 1978’s Jennifer using female sexuality, the root of her attack, as part of her revenge technique should not be overlooked.

Jennifer, going to church
Jennifer, going to church

 

All four of the men must die, no matter their physical role in the gang rape

During their attack on Jennifer, three of the men constantly “offer” her to the cognitively challenged man, who is visibly horrified by what his friends are doing and avoids participating at all costs. The other three men commit different acts trying to impress and show off to one another, sickly showing that this is more of a sport or game to them than a sexually driven act. When Jennifer confronts each man alone, he pleads and blames the other men. The group dynamic may have caused the men to do things they otherwise wouldn’t have, and the film could serve as a sick warning to men in our rape culture. However, it is important and noteworthy, especially because some reviews at the time described “three rapes” and “three rapists,”[8] that there is no doubt in Jennifer’s or the viewer’s mind that all four should be punished.

I don’t believe the anti-feminist trope that women need attacks like this to make them strong. Many of these films involve gang rapes, or other situations where the woman is at a serious disadvantage due to the men’s weapons or physical strength. To me, the message in these films is that if men choose to take advantage in these sick ways, they will be punished beyond their imagination. A common question is, What do men get out of watching these films (made for men, by men)? I think, because rape is based in extreme powerlessness, degradation, and humiliation, it gives audiences a free pass to fully experience and enjoy the revenge half of the film. In a rich history of movie characters avenging murders of loved ones and all types of suffering, the rape revenge fantasy should only take second place to someone being able to avenge their own murder. Anything the media or society can do to enforce the idea that rape is a paramount crime is a step in the right direction, and I Spit on Your Grave played a large role in building that case through film.

 

See also at Bitch FlicksRape as a MacGuffin: The Hollywood Cop Out

Recommended reading: I Was Wrong About I Spit on Your Grave

 


Sophie Besl is an exploitation film fanatic with a day job in nonprofit marketing. She has a Bachelor’s from Harvard and lives in Boston with her feminist boyfriend and three small dogs. She tweets at @rockyc5.


[1] Coffy (which Tarantino cites as a direct precursor to Kill Bill) and Foxy Brown, both star Pam Grier, a darling of Blaxploitation whom Tarantino later directed in Jackie Brown. (For more on the fantastic Pam Grier, please read these Bitch Flicks articles on her unfinished legacy and her time in another exploitation subgenre, women in prison). A similar discussion of racism is relevant with Blaxploitation movies—while these films use excessive nudity and do confirm stereotypes, they star Black protagonists who are in themselves empowered in fighting personal battles, and viewers of all backgrounds identify with these protagonists.

[2] Lady Snowblood stars a fierce female protagonist, and is part of the chambara subgenre of exploitation, a revisionist, non-traditional style of samurai film popular in Japan in the early 1970s (Wikipedia).

[3] Slasher films are an exploitation and horror subgenre. While they too are arguably feminist, in that the murderer is usually defeated by the “Final Girl,” in these films, the female protagonist fights because she has to. Rape revenge plots have women calculate revenge, then choose to engage in violence as an avenger, rather than a continuation of being a victim.

[4] When a female character is the attacked avenger, I prefer films that focus on rape revenge fantasy as the entire plot, as opposed to a story like The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, where it is a part of a larger story. A story where it is simply part of the plot sends me the message that rape is part of what women have to deal with on a daily basis; it is inescapable. The extreme treatment of and sole emphasis on rape in films like I Spit on Your Grave and Last House on the Left enables these films to be an exploration of power plays and humanity’s darker sides, rather than a statement about the prevalence of rape in women’s lives.

[5] The original title of this film is significant. The “day of the woman” to me clearly refers to the day of her vengeful murders. By using the phrase “the woman” instead of the character’s name, this seems to imply that her revenge is not just on behalf of herself against her attackers, but on behalf of all women against all men who have perpetrated crimes like this.

[6] Review from Mick Martin and Marsha Porter, Video Move Guide: 1987, as cited and described in Men, Women, and Chain Saws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film, by Carol J. Clover (Princeton University Press 1992).

[7] See Clover (1992, p. 139) for more. She argues that, in films made before 1970, rape was “construed as an act of revenge on the part of a male who has suffered at the hands of the woman in question (to have been sexually teased, or to have a smaller paycheck or lesser job, is to suffer).”

[8] Clover, 1992.

‘Irreversible’: Deconstructing Rape Revenge

‘Irreversible’ deconstructs the ethically dubious pleasures of the rape revenge genre through its structure as well as its plot. Its reverse chronology inverts the formula of rape-then-revenge, thereby robbing the viewer of any sense, however questionable, of justice done, and subverting the whole economy of violence.

Written by Max Thornton as part of our theme week on Rape Revenge Fantasies.

This piece contains spoilers.

Confession: I didn’t actually rewatch Irreversible before writing this piece. Back in 2007, it was included in an A.V. Club article on “24 Great Films Too Painful To Watch Twice,” and if I was ever going to try to prove that piece wrong, it certainly wouldn’t be during the most important week in my religion’s calendar. (Rape revenge movies are kind of the antithesis of Jesus in basically every respect.)

Pictured: Not Jesus
Pictured: Not Jesus

But I feel no real need to rewatch this movie, because one viewing is all it took to sear it into my memory. Gaspar Noé’s second feature is a technically superb film, with a hook that would snag any cinephile: it happens backwards, with the scenes occurring in reverse chronological order. Like any rape revenge movie, this is a nasty, brutal film, telling a nasty, brutal story – and it does so deliberately, brilliantly, and harrowingly.

It’s probably fair to say that most rape revenge films have a female character doing the revenge part, whether it’s the rape survivor herself (as in I Spit on Your Grave) or her friend/relative (as in Last House on the Left), which makes the questions of morality, agency, message, and point of identification extremely complex (and no doubt my esteemed colleagues will have some incisive comments about this as the week goes on). There are elements of wish-fulfillment in the rape survivor’s violent vengeance – Carol J. Clover’s Men, Women, and Chainsaws is, of course, the classic text on the gendered complexities of viewer identification in films of this kind – and this entails all the moral quandaries of any grim fantasy: is it catharsis or titillation? Empowerment or exploitation?

In Irreversible, though, there’s no question of empowerment or catharsis, because here it’s a man who does the revenge as well as a man who does the rape. Monica Bellucci, as the film’s ostensible protagonist, doesn’t actually get to do a whole lot apart from get horrendously assaulted and viciously beaten. Her partner’s bloody revenge isn’t cathartic or gratifying for the viewer at all, not only because it’s not carried out by the survivor of the rape (nor, it turns out, against the actual rapist), but also because we see it before we see the rape.

From now on, I'm just going to use pictures of kittens and puppies who are friends, to try to mitigate the horribleness of what I am talking about. Source
From now on, I’m just going to use pictures of kittens and puppies who are friends, to try to mitigate the horribleness of what I am talking about. Source

In this way, Irreversible deconstructs the ethically dubious pleasures of the rape revenge genre through its structure as well as its plot. Its reverse chronology inverts the formula of rape-then-revenge, thereby robbing the viewer of any sense, however questionable, of justice done, and subverting the whole economy of violence.

To drive this point home, the vengeance takes place in a male gay bar, underscoring the total absence of female agency in this story. Men have all the agency here, and everything they do is awful. Women qua humans are irrelevant to the characters and the actions they take, whether those actions are nominally on behalf of them or against them.

Unfortunately, the final scene unintentionally reinforces the very dehumanization of women that the rest of the film so trenchantly unveils. The revelation that Bellucci’s character is pregnant serves only as a cheap additional twist of the knife, making her even more of a cipher by essentializing her to an incubator. It’s unnecessary, and only there to make an already devastatingly nasty film even more devastating. It’s a bit of emotional manipulation that weakens my ability to perform a feminist reading of the film, because it doesn’t let the awful violations of the protagonist be awful just because she’s, you know, a human being. Suddenly they’re extra awful because she had a BABBY inside her, and now her value as baby-maker/incubator is diminished. For the most part, Irreversible is deliberately grueling and horrible as an attempt to convey some of the true awfulness of a rape victim’s experience, but the choice to end the film on this moment seems to send the message that it was especially bad for both Bellucci and her partner because they were about to be a happy heteronormative family, which would have enabled her to find true fulfillment as a woman!!1

LOOK SO CUTE. Source
LOOK SO CUTE. Source

Despite this regrettable choice of ending, Irreversible is a valuable deconstruction of rape-revenge tropes. It’s an excruciating experience, but a crucial one for anybody interested in cinematic portrayals of sexual violence.

________________________________________

Max Thornton blogs at Gay Christian Geek, tumbles as trans substantial, and is slowly learning to twitter at @RainicornMax.

Revenge Is a Dish Best Served … Not at All?

Tarantino’s narrative requires The Bride to murder her rapist and to defend herself with some of the masculine characteristics that are used as institutionalized power to oppress women, such as physical strength and aggression. The film insists that she seek revenge, instead of demanding that men simply do not rape. This is barely better than teaching rape avoidance. It dictates that women must assimilate to a male culture of violence in order to have autonomy over their own bodies.

Kill Bill movie poster
Kill Bill movie poster

 

This guest post by Angelina Rodriguez appears as part of our theme week on Rape Revenge Fantasies.

The words “female hero” are likely to fill one’s media-enthused mind with images of scantily clad, predominantly white women wielding weapons–like Lara Croft, Xena, or Wonder Woman. Quentin Tarantino contributes many modernized reincarnations of this caricature in his films. One of his most famous films Kill Bill, starring Uma Thurman as Beatrix Kiddo (also referred to as The Bride) is a prime example. As a result of the male gaze, female heroes that fit a format created by men often fail as heroes in their own right as a result of the male gaze. Even though The Bride is a fierce warrior and martial artist, she is repeatedly raped and must step over the bodies of other women, specifically women of color, on her way to her implied equal, a man.

tarantino_13

While The Bride is comatose, the hospital orderly rapes her and accepts money from people in exchange for access to her room so that they can also rape her. It is suggested that he has done this a number of times and the dialogue is delivered as darkly humorous. Why do we rape our female characters? Is it to show exactly what women must overcome? It is concerning that this is seen as an empowering message. Watching a woman, such as Beatrix, repossess her body is moving, but all reactions to rape are valid and require strength. During the film, Beatrix must overcome her foes in an order that mirrors the racial and gender hierarchies that exist within our culture. Her rapist is the first to die; he is at the very bottom of the barrel. His offense transcends race and gender and he is the lowest of the low.

Uma-Thurman-Confirms-Kill-Bill-III-2

Tarantino’s narrative requires The Bride to murder her rapist and to defend herself with some of the masculine characteristics that are used as institutionalized power to oppress women, such as physical strength and aggression. The film insists that she seek revenge, instead of demanding that men simply do not rape. This is barely better than teaching rape avoidance. It dictates that women must assimilate to a male culture of violence in order to have autonomy over their own bodies. In this scenario responsibility remains on the victim. If she does not prevent her rape she must avenge it. Although rape revenge fantasy can be cathartic, we must question the messages at work within these scenes. This scene, in particular, delivers her rape in a way that is almost humorous. It is disrespectful to our hero and to the countless victims of rape that have viewed the film. Despite Tarantino’s belief in the necessity of rape on the heroine’s journey, our female characters do not have to be raped to find liberation from the chains of rape culture and patriarchy.

 


Angelina Rodriguez studies Sociology at Fairmont State University. In her free time she thinks about things and pets puppies.

Call for Writers: Rape Revenge Fantasies

Rape revenge fantasies form a niche that has the ability to empower rape survivors by giving the story a twist that is rarely enacted in the real world. In these films, those who are made helpless, their humanity called into question, take control, fight back, and make their abusers pay for their crimes.

Call-for-Writers

Our April Theme Week for 2014 will be Rape Revenge Fantasies.

Rape revenge fantasies form a niche that has the ability to empower rape survivors by giving the story a twist that is rarely enacted in the real world. In these films, those who are made helpless, their humanity called into question, take control, fight back, and make their abusers pay for their crimes. For survivors, these kinds of fantasies can be an invaluable tool in overcoming post-traumatic stress disorder to rewrite a bleak story and imbue it with meaning that gives strength and autonomy.

However, there are infamous reports of theater audience members cheering during the heroine’s gang rape in 1978’s classic rape revenge horror film I Spit on Your Grave. Decades later, audience members were caught laughing as (seemingly) unconscious heroine, The Bride, is prostituted out by one of her caregivers in an allusion to countless rapes perpetrated against her comatose form in 2003’s Kill Bill. Has the rape and degradation of human beings become a form of entertainment, a plot device, a technique to put women back in their place?

Who does the rape revenge fantasy serve? Does it threaten rape culture with its promise of punishment for perpetrators? Or is it part of rape culture itself, by creating harmless catharsis that doesn’t enact or enable real change? If the rape revenge fantasy is, indeed, a subversive tactic designed to give power back to “victims,” is it really enough? Is anything really enough to avenge or ameliorate that kind of wrong?

Kristal Cooper asks a similar question in her piece called, “Woman Seeks Revenge: What’s the Purpose of the Rape/Revenge Horror Film?”:

The main source of conflict about these and other films like them is whether or not they actually do the job that many cinephiles and film scholars claim they’re meant to. That is, to highlight the ugliness of sexual violence and give women an outlet to vent their rage at a sexist society via the revenge doled out by the films’ protagonists. But is this actually the intent or just a positive spin on yet another way that cinema exploits women and their sexuality?

Think about that for a while, and send us an analysis of a specific film in the rape revenge genre–you can find a list of possibilities below.

We’d like to avoid as much overlap as possible for this theme, so get your proposals in early if you know which film you’d like to write about. We accept both original pieces and cross-posts, and we respond to queries within a week.

Most of our pieces are between 1,000 and 2,000 words, and include links and images. Please send your piece as a Microsoft Word document to btchflcks[at]gmail[dot]com, including links to all images, and include a 2- to 3-sentence bio.

If you have written for us before, please indicate that in your proposal, and if not, send a writing sample if possible.

Please be familiar with our publication and look over recent and popular posts to get an idea of Bitch Flicks’ style and purpose. We encourage writers to use our search function to see if your topic has been written about before, and link when appropriate (hyperlinks to sources are welcome, as well).

The final due date for these submissions is Friday, April 18 by midnight.

 

Hard Candy

I Spit on Your Grave

American Mary

Foxfire

Death and the Maiden

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

The Legend of Billie Jean

Teeth

Lipstick

Dexter

Kill Bill

Veronica Mars

Deliverance

American Horror Story: Coven

Pulp Fiction

Ms. 45 / Angel of Vengeance

Thelma and Louise

The Virgin Spring

Eye for an Eye

Sleepers