Trauma changes a person. It can literally rewire the brain, transforming the way that you move through life and experience supposed constants like time. In the revolutionary and devastating rape-revenge film Violation, co-writers and co-directors Dusty Mancinelli and Madeleine Sims-Fewer explore a woman’s response to sexual assault using a non-linear narrative and the female gaze to subvert genre tropes and provide an emotionally and psychologically authentic depiction of survival.
Miriam (Sims-Fewer) and Greta (Anna Maguire) are sisters. Miriam has always been protective of Greta, often taking extreme measures to act as her “white knight” even though Greta resents her for it. When they spend a few days together at a remote cottage with Greta’s husband Dylan (Jesse LaVercombe) and Miriam’s husband Caleb (Obi Abili), Miriam becomes the victim of sexual violence. The physical violation is not the only betrayal or trauma that Miriam experiences as a result of the rape, and when she believes that her sister is also in danger from the perpetrator, she enacts a plan to get revenge and protect her sister at the same time.
There is a jittery intimacy to the prolonged handheld shots for Miriam’s act of revenge. The camera lingers and lets the physical and emotional toll of her methodical plan unfold over agonizing minutes. This is exhausting work that is traumatic in its own right. There’s no climactic catharsis here, no moment at which Miriam finds peace. When she confronts a man she sees bullying another woman in a parking lot and yells in his face that she’s not afraid of him, it’s not a moment of victory. It’s another loss of control, a trauma response that causes a panic attack. Miriam hides in the dark, wracked by sobs that come from the depths of her being. She’s not a fearless avenging angel; she is a woman shattered by a terrible act of violence.
The word “rape” is never uttered in Violation. Miriam tells her attacker that what happened was not consensual, but she can’t seem to bring herself to label her trauma. It’s a familiar feeling for many survivors, particularly those who are victimized by close friends or family. When the rapist argues with her and tries to blame her for what happened, it feels like another assault is happening. A single event can traumatize a person many times over and oftentimes, even though the physical event may be in the past, it never really stops happening for the survivor.
Throughout the film, canted and inverted shots of the wilderness keep the viewer off balance and unsure of their place in the world. The camera moves slowly in and out of focus, constantly forcing the viewer to reassess their surroundings. Time shifts, with memories of happier days intermingling with memories of horrific violations with only a few visual cues to establish which timeline is which. All of these artistic choices put the audience squarely in the shoes of a trauma survivor. Whether you realize it or not, your brain is always trying to find answers to these questions: What’s happening? Am I safe? Is this a memory or the present day? Is there any difference between the two?
The prickly intimacy amongst the cast reinforces the horror of Miriam’s rape. These are people who know each other very well; they love each other and hate each other and have long histories together. Their discursive conversations range from cheekily funny to painfully barbed. Sims-Fewer’s performance is remarkable: her face shows every roiling emotion as she struggles to comprehend her assault while the people around her — including her rapist — seem to go on like everything is normal. Her pain, rage, and exhaustion while she enacts her revenge are achingly palpable. Though she survived, this is not a triumph. What happens to her rapist may be satisfying to the viewer, but the toll it takes on Miriam’s psyche will be with her forever, just like the trauma of the initial assault.
Violation is a sensitive and thoughtful examination of what it really means to survive sexual assault and to live with trauma for the rest of your life. The film’s expressive camerawork, poetic narrative, and vulnerable performances portray the complexity of survival. Closure via the standard rape-revenge formula is a myth, albeit one that is tempting to believe and can be immensely satisfying to watch. Violation does not have easy answers for its viewers, but it does have empathy and emotional honesty, and those are two things that survivors deserve.
