I'd never even heard of this movie, which is probably ridiculous, and everyone else already knows about it. I only caught it today on some antenna-based movie station, which probably had it as a "horror" genre film in line with the coming Halloween holiday--which falls short of its meaning. But this tense, well-acted, psychological thriller starring Terence Stamp ("Kneel before Zod!) and Samantha Eggar actually is a brutal story about a Nice Guy who kidnaps a woman and basically works through so many dynamics of misogyny and abuse that it is practically a handbook of what fucks woman-blaming Manboys be.
This might not be a movie for everyone. It represents a stalker and kidnapper who has isolated a target and cut her off from everything, controlling her behavior--not always through violence, but sometimes through manipulation and even seeming pleasant at times. Such a stalker! He buys art books, makes tea, buys toiletries! He provides a place for his victim to stay and proclaims he's a gentleman and pretends he's above violence, but the drama between his need to control and her desire to be free is tense and real.
The title comes from his hobby of collecting butterflies. There is a deep scene where he shows his victim his collection, and she comes to the realization that she has been collected, like a thing to be had, dead, just like they are.
I'm not going to give away all that unfolds, but it is grim and sad and still and all, compelling and revealing. I'll admit I was rooting for a way for a happy ending to somehow come out of it.
Spoiler alert--no, watch the movie. The movie and the novel, by John Fowles, are available at Amazon. And probably elsewhere if you skulk about more than I did.
Showing posts with label abuse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abuse. Show all posts
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
The NFL Feels Like Rihanna is a Problem
So, just looking at the recent maneuver by the NFL in a part of their "message-control" to actually decide that running with Rihanna's music is an unfortunate reminder that their most recent scandal has to do with domestic abuse--how sad are these people?
You know, refusing to partner with a domestic violence victim because of how it looks is a little like saying, well--isn't she to blame, a little, if associating with her made us look worse?
When the NFL, after all, seems to have the problem with not knowing what to do with employees who batter spouses and children. They have an issue with batterers, so, why should they penalize someone who has suffered some abuse?
It is because it looks bad? Is it because it makes them feel bad to consider what she suffered is just so much like what Janay Rice's face must have looked like, and, well--it makes them look bad?
There's a terrible ironic analogy to make here.
Anyone want to guess how many battered people don't leave their homes, or wear long sleeves, or make excuses for their injuries, all on account of how someone who excuses violence wants to manage them because they don't want to look bad? How many people out there are trying to make themselves invisible, so as not to compromise their abuser in order to not catch any worse treatment? Excising Rihanna like she did something is like saying victims shouldn't be seen because they are a reminder of what can happen, and who wants or needs to talk about that? (I mean, except for people who might need to open up about their abuse or seek help or whatever.)
The NFL is revealing some scary attitudes about the degree to which opinion and image takes precedence over people. I haven't been a fan since I started getting the feeling that players were getting bad effects from head trauma (I was a fan of McMahon--he was a sharp character on and off the field at one time and was pretty ecstatic that he came to back-up QB for the Eagles for awhile) and the like and the industry was cleaning it up (I feel the same way--in spades--regarding the short lives of professional wrestlers). But understanding that this spin control, money over humanity, extends to families and violence, and colors even little things like wrongfooting a performer because of her history in this unfortunate way--makes me think the business is sick.
They have a lot of wrong-headedness to sort out. But victim-blaming, even if accidentally, means they aren't yet actually seeing the real problem that they have.
You know, refusing to partner with a domestic violence victim because of how it looks is a little like saying, well--isn't she to blame, a little, if associating with her made us look worse?
When the NFL, after all, seems to have the problem with not knowing what to do with employees who batter spouses and children. They have an issue with batterers, so, why should they penalize someone who has suffered some abuse?
It is because it looks bad? Is it because it makes them feel bad to consider what she suffered is just so much like what Janay Rice's face must have looked like, and, well--it makes them look bad?
There's a terrible ironic analogy to make here.
Anyone want to guess how many battered people don't leave their homes, or wear long sleeves, or make excuses for their injuries, all on account of how someone who excuses violence wants to manage them because they don't want to look bad? How many people out there are trying to make themselves invisible, so as not to compromise their abuser in order to not catch any worse treatment? Excising Rihanna like she did something is like saying victims shouldn't be seen because they are a reminder of what can happen, and who wants or needs to talk about that? (I mean, except for people who might need to open up about their abuse or seek help or whatever.)
The NFL is revealing some scary attitudes about the degree to which opinion and image takes precedence over people. I haven't been a fan since I started getting the feeling that players were getting bad effects from head trauma (I was a fan of McMahon--he was a sharp character on and off the field at one time and was pretty ecstatic that he came to back-up QB for the Eagles for awhile) and the like and the industry was cleaning it up (I feel the same way--in spades--regarding the short lives of professional wrestlers). But understanding that this spin control, money over humanity, extends to families and violence, and colors even little things like wrongfooting a performer because of her history in this unfortunate way--makes me think the business is sick.
They have a lot of wrong-headedness to sort out. But victim-blaming, even if accidentally, means they aren't yet actually seeing the real problem that they have.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)