The fine line that differentiates pornography and
mainstream cinema is pushed to its limits with the DVD release
of the controversial 2000 French film Baise-Moi
(literally, F*** Me, but translated as Rape Me
in the US for obvious reasons), from the dual directing team
of Virgine Despentes and Coralie Trinh Thi. It is a dark,
violent story, based on a novel by Despentes, that is loaded
with startling and explicit hard-core sex scenes that sort of
shatter that imaginary wall of fake movie sex, and
inserts its two female lead characters into a series of
liaisons that, while graphic, do seem to serve the purpose of
presenting them as real women experiencing often unpleasant
realities.
At its core,
Baise-Moi is a story of
violent revenge, inflicted by women towards men, and the film
treads on ground we've seen before (Ms. 45, Thelma
And Louise) to some degree. A chance encounter in a train
station between Manu (Raffaela Anderson), a rape victim, and
Nadine (Karen Bach), a tough prostitute, ignites a friendship
that quickly propels them into a rage-filled odyssey that
gives them what they perceive to be the chance to change their
lives. The two become fast friends, and as their own troubled
pasts entwine them, they embark on a mission to destroy
men—any men—as icons of those who have shattered their own
lives. Manu and Nadine churn out a path of violent destruction
as they both learn the power of sex, and use it as a tool for
them to overcome their own depression and to inject brute, raw
emotional control into their lives.
Despentes and
Trinh Thi cast a pair of French adult film stars (Bach and
Anderson) as the two leads, and that should not come as too
big of a surprise when viewing Baise-Moi. I will admit
that it was somewhat unsettling at first to see the stars of a film performing very real sex acts, and not
simply taking part in one of those soft-focus romps that
typically pass for cinematic sex. It's obvious that much of
the directors' intent would have been lost had the sex been
toned down, as it serves a very pivotal role in their lives
and adds authenticity.
Bach and Anderson give very
natural performances, which only heightens the strange
juxtaposition of viewing their sexual encounters. Bach is very
good as the tough-as-nails Nadine, whose own love of violence
is unearthed by Manu. Anderson's Manu, whose sweet,
mischievous smile reveals her as an innocent driven to the
edge as a result of a particularly brutal gang-rape that
occurs early in the film, is the catalyst that leads the two
on the literal road to ruin. Her actions, as she drives the
pair further along the path of evil, gives Baise-Moi
some needed edge.
If we strip away the dramatic effect
of the sexual scenes, we are left with a story that is not
much more than those "lather, rinse, repeat"
instructions on a shampoo bottle. There isn't much in the way
of tension or suspense, as the bulk of this relatively short
film focuses on a series of encounters, followed by bloodshed.
With the exception of one overly nasty death scene, which
occurs during the sex club sequence, the violence presented by
Despentes and Trinh Thi is a seemingly endless parade of
bloody gunshot wounds. I don't think the violent nature of Baise-Moi will shock as many as will the extreme
sexuality.
The strength and subtle charisma of the two
leads does give Baise-Moi enough of a kick to merit a
viewing by adventurous film fans.
From Digitally
Obsessed
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