Dir.
Sam Peckinpah, 1971, USA/UK, 113 mins
Cast:
Dustin Hoffman, Susan George, Peter Vaughan
Upon its release in 1971, Samuel Peckinpah's Straw Dogs quickly acquired a notoriety which has coloured public and media perception ever since. This reputation can be attributed to a violent and now infamous rape scene that intimates that the female protagonist (Amy) welcomes being raped by two different men. September 2002 saw Straw Dogs finally passed uncut for video distribution in it's original form (previous versions had cut much of the second rape, suggesting that Amy was a compliant victim).
The British Board of Film Classification states that the present uncut version is acceptable, commenting that 'the ambiguity of the first rape is given context by the second rape, which makes it quite clear that sexual assault is not something that Amy ultimately welcomes'.
Before deciding to release the film to video, the BBFC sought the advice of Clinical Psychologists working with sex offenders, who surmised that this current version would not be harmful to viewers. A public focus group was established, the majority of whom favoured passing the film, with 20 of the 26 participants agreeing that an 18 certificate was reasonable. Such measures illustrate the power that Straw Dogs still has, and the BBFC are particularly stringent in policing violence on video, as there is the potential for disturbing scenes to be played repeatedly. They take a firm stand on scenes depicting sexual violence which 'endorse or eroticise harmful behaviour', and argue that the present version of the film does not have this effect.
Straw Dogs comprises a group of controversial Peckinpah films, including the critically acclaimed The Wild Bunch (1969), Pat Garret and Billy The Kid (1973), and Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia (1974), all of which are concerned to some degree with issues of masculinity. The film is part of what were once known as the 'backwoods brutality cycle' films of the 70's, which include The Last House To The Left (1972), Deliverance (1972) and I Spit On Your Grave (1978). These films all show civilised people forced into acts of barbarity in order to defend themselves against the uncivilised masses. Although this soon became a cliched term, it is particularly relevant to Straw Dogs, which explores this theme in great depth.
The film centers on David Summer (Dustin Hoffman), a mild-mannered American mathematician who is on sabbatical leave, and his sexy younger wife Amy (Susan George). They move to a farmhouse in a sinister Cornish village not entirely dissimilar to the League of Gentlemen's 'Royston Vasey'. An intimidating group of hillbilly-esque local workmen are hired to renovate the couple's house. The group includes Charlie, an old boyfriend of Amy's, for Amy is a native to the strange village ('a local').
The workmen quickly begin to resent David's apparent sophistication and wealth and Amy's powerful, unattainable desirability. Tensions mount unbearably; the workmen kill the couple's cat and hang it in their wardrobe, then lure David away on a fake duck hunt. Whilst David is lost in the woods, two of the men (Charlie and Scott) creep back to the house and savagely rape Amy. David eventually returns to the house, bringing with him Henry (David Warner), the 'village idiot' suspected of killing a local girl. Despite Amy's pleas, David gives refuge to Henry and refuses to hand him over to the baying villagers, who then attack the farmhouse in a violent climax in which David's civilised ways are dramatically abandoned in favour of bloody-minded self-defence.
Despite the controversy surrounding the film, it offers a fine example of Peckinpah's considerable skill as a filmmaker, and is well crafted and atmospheric. Jeremy Fielding's score comprising of jazz with a classical twist also lends effective melancholy. The cinematography ingeniously portrays the desolate village, and a clever series of symbolic images give weight to the sinister mood; children dance around an ancient grave on the village green, Amy's ex-boyfriend helps David carry a antique mantrap from his car. One of the most heavily 'symbolic' opening shots is the oft-referred-to close-up of Amy's bra-less chest, with her face out of view, which immediately sets her up as a sexual object.
This theme is further woven in to the fabric of the film; Amy complains about being leered at, yet consciously exposes her knickers when exiting the car, and stands naked by a window, in full view of the drooling workmen. Such actions partially trigger the violent events that follow, and Amy's sexuality is portrayed as a destructive driving force; it is suggested that the violence doled out to her is almost deserved. Whilst she toys with the workmen in an 'adult' and sexual manner, Amy's behaviour towards David is at points disturbingly child-like. She even pretends to be a child for David at one stage, whereupon he says ' Wanna try for twelve? How about eight? I freak out for eight-year-olds'. In an uneasy and unequal marriage, Amy finds that this childish behaviour guarantees her attention from her unresponsive husband.
The conflict between the couple is further intensified when their cat is found hanging in their wardrobe. Both Amy and the villagers see David as weak and ineffectual, and this is made obvious when she tells him that the workmen did it 'to prove to you that they can get in to your bedroom'. They go on to prove this in the much-criticised 'double rape' scene, where it is made difficult for the viewer to determine Amy's feelings clearly during the first rape by Charlie. This is troubling, and raises the issue of 'no not meaning no'; Amy screams 'no', but then seems to almost enjoy the act. However, the second rape is portrayed as painful and wholly unwanted. This scene is intercut with the hunting scene to great effect; David is made the prey of the villagers, just as Amy is the prey of Charlie and Scott.
The point of no return comes for David when he returns home with Henry and the house becomes under siege by the villagers. David suddenly becomes a one man fighting machine, obsessed by defending what is his. He finds this newly found violent side to be deeply cathartic, discovering a strength and masculinity which has been sadly lacking; previously he has been unable to protect his own wife from violent attack, or protect the sanctity of his home. He is now willing to stand up for a potential murderer, a seemingly illogical action which illustrates the primal instincts surfacing within his meek mathematician's soul. The film climaxes with this disturbing and brutal half an hour of violence wherein David ably defends his home, then drives away smiling in to the foggy evening. We are unsure of where he is going, but he seems happy enough. Amy, however, is left behind in the 'Village Of The Damned', a casualty of war who is peripheral to the main action.
Sarah Davies
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