Tag: Six Acts

Jonathon Gurfinkel’s debut film, Six Acts, winner of the TVE Another Look Award at the San Sebastian Film Festival, is premiering in the United States at the 2013 Tribeca Film Festival. The film is the product of six years of research and filming on the part of newcomers Jonathon Gurfinkel and screenwriter Rona Segal, who spent a substantial amount of time interviewing and speaking with young teenagers, asking about their experiences and stresses.

Six Acts (which can also be heard as ‘sex acts’) is about a young Israeli girl, Gili (Sivian Levy), who has just moved to a new school in an affluent suburb where she begins to engage in sexual activity with a number of her peers, essentially being passed around from boy to boy. While Gili holds the title role and the film is about the things that happen to her, in reality, the film is very much about portraying the generational behaviors of patriarchy and entitlement that allow rape and sexual assault to go unnoticed.

Perversely, Gili is raped again and again during the course of the film; she has just been convinced that she wanted it and that she enjoys being used for sex. These rapes are delicately portrayed in the way that Segal has scripted these scenes: Gili is pressured again and again and her repeated statements of “No” are not directly ignored, but brushed aside as the boys play angry when she refuses, clearly manipulating her. It’s significant that in each scene she is pressured and physically held or pushed until she finally gets quiet and the act is performed ending with kisses and the question, “Baby, did you like that” afterwards. At which point she smiles a little, looks away and tries to convince herself that she did. The two main boys in the film play a deceptive game; the first one, Tomer is quiet and seemingly arrogant; the second boy, Omri, is friendly and charming. Their characters are so finely crafted however, that for most of the movie, you find yourself still intrigued by these boys. Gurfinkel acknowledged the difficulty in filming these scenes saying,

“Some might say that the boys can’t be at fault because Gili seems like she’s actively cooperating, like she might want it. But this touches on the psychological formula of the strong against the weak, and the film shows how people take advantage of the weak, not just in a sexual way.”

Continuing with that goal of displaying the “psychological formula of the strong against the weak,” Omri’s father, his father’s friends, his brothers, and his own friends are all complicit in encouraging their aggressive and disrespectful behaviors. Cleverly, the film does a wonderful job of showcasing how Omri’s father’s conduct has influenced him into believing that such actions are how men should treat women. It’s frustrating to see how this cycle is repeated as Omri passes on his knowledge of exploitation to his much younger brother. It’s indicative to see the way that even Omri’s father’s friends look at Gili as she enters the room; they case her up and down and smile suggestively.

Shockingly, even Omri’s mother shrugs off the fact that her husband discusses his flirtations in front of her and merely closes her office door to her 13-year-old son’s conversation with his friends about how they should “fuck Gili.”

In fact, in many ways, the film is also a huge indictment about modern parenting, since no mother or father seems to take particular care as to where their children are or what activities they are doing, merely serving to enable them in the destructive and violent behavior that happens in their houses even while they’re present.

These scenes offer insight into the troubled lives of teens, specifically those living in Israel, though the film was also intended to tell a universal story. I have little experience with Israel, so it would be interesting to hear whether it’s portrayal of Israeli life is an accurate one.

The film’s setting is then of particular importance; while I expected discussion about religion and regional politics, there were none. The film literally takes place from the self-centered viewpoint of the universally common, affluent, and entitled suburban teenager. None of these issues plays a role because none of the characters care; the only things that matter are cars and poker and sex and money and drugs and sports. Minus the Hebrew being spoken, this film could have taken place in London, Los Angeles, Tokyo, or any other city with a stable middle-class. 

The world of flash, materialism, and ambition exists completely out of sight of the self-aware and moderate, with no such positive characteristics being shown by any character. The drive for the immediate is all that matters, and each of the boys is obviously the product of a family and cultural attitude that enables them to act upon this drive without consequences. In fact, after one of the many assaults enacted upon Gili, the young boy demands a kiss and then offers to buy her fast food on the way to the pharmacy. He then demands that she take a morning after pill, driving her there and giving her two packs just to make sure she’s not pregnant, regardless of the fact that she tried to leave and said she would handle the situation on her own. The fact that she could be pregnant is his only possible consequence, and even in that she is forced to comply with his demands (not that I’m against the morning after pill, just other people telling women when they should and should not take it).

One thing that I think could be potentially problematic in discussing a film like this is of course the trap of blame. In a few of the reviews that I have read so far there have been some people intent on blaming Gili for her actions, or at least pushing her as the impetus for these actions: she sent the boys a photo, she answered the call when they asked her to come over. One reviewer even went so far as to say that there’s “no point in feeling sorry for her” because she is rude to one of the boys before he rapes her. However, Segal’s intentions in writing the film belie such destructive victim blaming, as she states in an interview with regard to Gili’s character, “You can ask anyone and they will recall having a girl in their class who was always known to be ‘loose.’ I wanted to show that her decisions are not so black and white.”

Similarly, during my experience of watching the film, it seemed to me that I was merely watching the sad and terrifying journey of a girl who was too trusting and too naïve to see how terrible her new friends really were, and who lacked any responsible figure willing to step in and protect a minor.

Though Gili’s character is not without its problems: Gili’s desperate need for acceptance and love is painted in broad strokes, and it’s easy to see how easily she gets caught up in self-destructive behavior. The realization that her new friends are no friends at all is, as it is in real life, hard to see in the moment. On a very personal note, it was sad to see some of myself in her, to see the ways she so easily became devalued; it’s unfortunate that so many women will probably feel the same as I did when I watched the movie. 

The music is lovely but very much a part of the background; the cinematography is bold and engaging, highlighting the harsh situations that Gili has found herself in. Nothing is softened.

Six Acts premiers on April 18, 2013 at the Tribeca Film Festival at a point when sadly, a multitude of rapes and startling attitudes about rape culture have been exposed: incidents such as the Steubenville rape case, the problematic media aftermath, and the brutality of the gang rape in Delhi, just to name a few. While not always an easy movie to watch, I believe that Six Acts could be a very important film for these issues. I truly hope that it will reach a wide audience. 

For information about additional screenings continue on to the 2013 Tribeca Film Festival website.

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Rachel Redfern has an MA in English literature, where she conducted research on modern American literature and film and its intersection; however, she spends most of her time watching HBO shows, traveling, and blogging and reading about feminism.