Dir. Lucky McKee
Social satire or horror movie? Misogynistic or an attack on misogyny? Feminist tract or manipulative glorification of violence? These are the kinds of questions that The Woman has raised with audiences and critics. Whether the film is viewed as a powerful portrait of misogyny, a thinking man’s torture-porn flick or simply a brutal and nasty gore-fest - The Woman proves to be an uncompromising and memorable ordeal. More a film to be endured than enjoyed, it has left audiences divided, devastated and immersed in deep debate. Frenzied viewers were left shocked, dazed, horrified, angry and outraged in its wake as it blazed through festival screenings and cinemas. Interestingly, apathy wasn’t something experienced by most viewers – The Woman demands that you have a strong opinion one way or the other. Of course, the danger with having such a fearsome and provocative reputation so adamantly preceding it is that it will fail to live up to the hype.
Does it? Well, it does and it doesn’t. It is shocking, gripping and well directed, but it is also very manipulative and morally black and white; the thinly veiled points it makes about gender relations, familial dysfunction, spousal abuse and contemporary morality are all hammered home with unwavering intensity.
Based on a screenplay by Lucky McKee and horror writer Jack Ketchum, The Woman works both as a stand-alone film and a sequel to the pair’s previous backwoods shocker The Offspring. It follows family man Chris Cleek’s (Sean Bridgers) attempts to civilise a wild woman he encounters in the forest and subsequently chains up in his cellar. He forces his submissive family to partake in his attempts to tame her, but unsurprisingly, it turns out to be he who is far from civilised. The Woman leads viewers along a frequently shocking and emotionally draining trail, twisting and turning but always leading unavoidably to that haunting and unforgettable climax. From the outset, it is one of those films in which everything indicates it won’t end well. At all well.
While it does serve as an exploration of the darkness in humanity and the atrocious, barbarous things society does in the name of civilization, it is a fairly simplistic depiction of such. It takes barbed jabs at conservative patriarchal family values revealing them to be inherently corrupt. While unquestioningly provocative and commanding, The Woman isn’t quite the feminist allegory it has been made out to be. Perhaps best viewed as a pitch-dark sitcom, if you scratch the surface there isn’t really that much more going on. Everything is loud and blatant – but it is conveyed with enough vigor and conviction to ensure it remains pretty damn compelling.
While its obvious button pushing is clear, it remains strangely effective. Its depiction of domestic abuse is unflinching and overwhelming in its matter of fact and abrupt execution. Even though the sporadic bloodletting will sate gore-hounds in its alarming intensity, it is actually the psychological horror and quiet degradation of the family unit that packs the weightiest punch. The female characters all live in fear of Chris. Tension comes from his unreasonable nature, his family’s inability to stand up to him and his tyrannical brand of patriarchy. He has no redeeming qualities – he has no moral grey area or ambiguity – he is presented as a clean-cut monster we’re actively encouraged to despise. He views his actions as morally righteous, and simply sees women as weak and deserving of such harsh treatment. Were these misogynous values instilled within him by his own father? Society? Or something broken, dark and damaged in his own soul?
Add to this the deliberately languid, slow-burn approach masterfully handled by McKee and you’ll get some idea of the stifling tension the film exudes.
One of the most disturbing aspects of the story is how Chris’s son begins to exhibit signs of following in his father’s footsteps, and is actively encouraged by Chris to do so. When Belle (Angela Bettis) chastises him for sexually assaulting the woman, Chris beats her unconscious and props her up at the kitchen table for daring to question their son’s actions, basically saying there was “no harm done.” It is in these moments when Chris condones violence and hatred towards women that get the blood boiling most of all.
The performances hold the increasingly extreme story together and all are highly effective. Pollyanna McIntosh is addictively compelling as the titular feral woman. Equal parts threatening and vulnerable, the wash of emotions exhibited by her is startling; everything is conveyed through her eyes, body language and guttural gurglings. As the dominating patriarch, Sean Bridgers is unnervingly calm and manipulative; behind closed doors he treats his daughters and wife with disdain and contempt. The mask he wears is that of an upstanding pillar of the community, a respectable business/family man who attends barbeques and partakes in the All-American pastime of hunting. As awkward teenager Peggy, Lauren Ashley Carter quietly commands attention as she implodes in fear and distress at the events unfolding in her own family home. Angela Bettis meanwhile provides yet another reliable performance as the downtrodden, soul-broken wife Belle. Fragile and fearful, the frustration she feels as she helplessly watches her family be psychologically abused consistently simmers behind her watery weak eyes.
The crowd-pleasing and blood-soaked climax enthralls as much as it frustrates – and the fate of one character in particular boasts a distasteful ‘blame the victim’ slant. Otherwise The Woman is a very well made and commanding film – McKee’s best since May
The Woman (cert. 18) will be available to buy on DVD and Blu-ray from 17th October 2011 courtesy of Revolver Entertainment.
Special features include: The Making of ‘The Woman’, Deleted Scenes, Short Film – ‘Mi Burro’, Meet The Makers, Music track ‘Distracted’ by Sean Spillane and 5 Exclusive Limited Edition Art Cards (HMV only).
The UK Blu-ray release also features an exclusive extra 'The Film4 FrightFest Total Film' panel with Lucky McKee, Andrew van den Houten, Adam Green, Joe Lynch, Ti West and Larry Fessenden.