The Woman Review

Horror begins at home in wild cellar standoff.

There may be a tendency for some viewers to 'shoot the messenger’ in the case of Lucky McKee’s The Woman. The Oklahoma-based auteur’s fourth feature serves two masters: the no-holds-barred world of independent horror cinema and the filmmaking provocateurs with a message to impart. (McKee cites the existential French 'horreur extrême’ works Martyrs and Inside as key influences.) If you can stay through the scenes of psychological and physical torture, brutal misogyny and entrail-exposing carnage you may emerge deeply affected and your views altered on the true nature of mankind’s capability to commit horrendous acts in the service of their beliefs and womankind’s defiance in the face of such acts. If you make it to the end, that is...

A wordless pre-credit sequence introduces a feral woman blending seamlessly into her woodland home; she is played by the remarkable Pollyanna McIntosh, returning to the role she debuted in Andrew van den Houten’s Offspring (2009; van den Houten is producer of The Woman). Essentially a wild beast, she confidently stalks and kills a wolf in its own lair. Also an alpha-predator is small town lawyer/suburban dad Chris (Sean Bridgers), whose ingratiating demeanour hides a misogynistic mindset. His early-teen son Brian (Zach Rand) is also adopting his father’s psychopathic tendencies; the women of the isolated farmhouse – mum Belle (Angela Bettis), baby daughter Darlin’ (Shyla Molhusen) and teenage Peggy (Lauren Ashley Carter)– live in abject fear.

While hunting in the woods, Chris spies the wild-woman washing herself in a river. Shot through rifle cross-hairs to a pumping rock music soundtrack, the sequence deftly subverts the core male audience’s reaction to the titillation by viewing it through the eyes of the villain, ala Michael Powell’s Peeping Tom (1960).

Chris captures her and chains her to his cellar wall, setting in motion a family project that he believes will result in her becoming 'civilised’. The breaking down of The Woman’s spirit in the second-act and the pleasure Chris and Brian derive from the vile abuse they inflict upon her is where much of the all-too-real horror elements kick in. The debasement is tempered by Peggy’s developing sympathies for The Woman’s plight, a key character-driven virtue that plays into the film’s truly grotesque, revenge-themed finale.

In recent years, McKee has skirted the fringe of the horror film community with works that mess with the mind as much as they do with the body. He has focussed almost exclusively on female protagonists, exploring the complexities of gender mores, fierce female psyches and the relationship between society and a woman’s sexuality. His highest profile work-to-date has been his debut film, May (2002), a study in teen-alienation barely seen during its theatrical run but subsequently adored as a cult item; Roger Ebert, in his 4-star review, called McKee 'the real thing" and said the movie was 'kind of amazing... something more and deeper, something disturbing and oddly moving."

Ebert’s words could just as easily apply to The Woman. The film reflects a director finally melding his technical skill and vision with material that pushes his often-used themes to the limit, artistically and intellectually. McKee also pushes the tolerance of his audience, rewarding those daring enough to remain in their seats but clearly going beyond the pale for some. (Vision of a dissenter at this year’s Sundance screening has gone viral.) His message is ultimately one of maternal family values and of the inextinguishable link between mother and child. (This theme also resonates in the work of co-writer and horror novelist Jack Ketchum.)

That the indomitable strength of the female id in its purest form can arise from the horrors in which McKee’s men subject her will be rousing for some, repugnant for others. Regardless of your stance on cinematic violence, the wrapping of such themes in torture-porn tropes should not mean the work is dismissed outright, but instead fuel passionate debate. Works such as McKee’s are structured to encourage discourse and should not be considered the final word.

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4 min read

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By Simon Foster
Source: SBS

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The Woman Review | SBS What's On