Realism in movies can be powerful but, in horror movies especially, very unpleasant. The stylized violence of slasher movies is generally pretty easy to digest after you have seen enough of them. That’s why it’s so easy to look at hundreds of horrible murders in the Friday the 13th series and think, “Cool!”
On the same token, that’s why I have to be in a certain mindset to endure something Cannibal Holocaust or I Spit on Your Grave. There’s value to be found in these movies but they are in not what I would call a good time.
I say this to preface the fact that I’m getting a laugh out of a sexual assault in this entry. In no way do I find sexual assault funny nor think of it in any way but heinous. In the same breath, I don’t find real murder to be cool but when it is completely detached from reality I think it becomes fair game. The same goes for sexual assault. This is just my way of saying that no offense is intended even though I can understand if somebody found some anyway in the content of this post.
Back to the funny sexual assault. It actually has nothing to do with the puppets that are running amuck through this movie, but instead with the psychics that they slice up. One of these psychics has the ability to experience past sexual encounters wherever she goes.
While she is riding the elevator, she has a vision of the film’s antagonist raping a woman. Her boyfriend tells the confused maid that she is experiencing the past. This vision serves to provide a little titillation and to identify Neil Gallagher as the film’s villain. The titillation comes when Gallagher rips the woman’s shirt open and exposes a nipple. The villainy comes from possibly the most villain-ish face ever slapped on a rapist. Since words fail me, here’s a picture:
What the hell is going on there? That is the most insanely intense aroused face I’ve ever seen. I know they’re trying to equate Gallagher’s behavior to that of an animal, a point that is subtly driven home by the lion roar that plays over this shot.
I don’t even know if I could contort my face like this. If I could, I would be doing it in just about any conceivable situation. I’m not just talking sex; I’d be whipping this thing out in traffic, at work, or any time I have to wait in a line that’s too long.
So, kudos to director David Schmoeller and actor Jimmie F. Skaggs for bringing some levity to sexual assaults in horror movies. Your monstrous visage will not be soon forgotten!