Forcible rape is such a traumatic violation of personal space that it's hard to imagine what feelings it brings in its wake. Men who find it even more difficult to imagine need to watch the movie "Deliverance." In her husband's absence, Montgomery is raped by an innocent-looking young man she meets at night school. Afterward, she scrubs herself and disposes of the clothing, and she's too embarrassed to tell anyone about it, not even her friend and neighbor (Patricia Smith) or her own husband (Ronny Cox). She tries to call the police but the officer at the other end of the line is busy and distracted, calling out to someone, "Make it with cream cheese!" Cox returns from his trip happy with the results and is too animated for her to talk to.
Then the innocent-looking young man assaults her again in an underground parking lot. This time he punches her and leaves her bruised, more or less forced now to report these incidents to the police.
It has to be said that the movie dates poorly and that the moral lesson is cheapened by the way it's structured. When I say "dated", I mean that the message was pertinent in 1974 when the movie was shown. We're more sophisticated about these things now. People take rape seriously and don't get it mixed up with rough but consensual intercourse. The person at the other end of 911 is going to tak you seriously. When we were in Newark, New Jersey, my son tried to call his mother in North Carolina. The area code is 901, but he dialed 911 by mistake and hung up at once when he realized the error. Five minutes later, two police officers knocked on the door with the snaps on their holsters unfastened. The responders are more considerate, the victims are more knowledgeable, and the community more understanding. It isn't 1974 anymore, and thank God for that.
When I say the story is structured in a way that cheapens the theme, I mean, for instance, that except for Elizabeth Montgomery and her children, everyone else is semi-moronic. After she reports the second rape, she's forced to undergo the complete rape kit, have photos of her bruises taken, and those who are doing the exam are brusque beyond belief. Montgomery sits huddled in the waiting room on a bench filled with pimps, cross-dressers, junkies, and other devalued people. Then some orderly with a clipboard enters the room and begins shouting, "We got a RAPE here? Who's the RAPE case. You have to sit in the wheelchair because RAPES aren't allowed to walk." And of course everyone is staring at the RAPE case. Certain medical venues aside, I have trouble swallowing a scene like that, even for 1974.
When she's in the stirrups, Montgomery asks about a uniformed police officer, "Does he have to be here?" "I'm afraid so," replies the doc, while permitting the officer to stand in a location that allows him to see her in her obstetric aspect. Pointless humiliation piled upon pointless humiliation. That's ridiculous.
It doesn't improve when she's interviewed by two detectives. They seem barely interested and treat her with disdain and sometimes sarcasm. They challenge her on simple points. Is she sure it was the same man both times? "Getting hit with a rape charge is a terrible thing to do to a man." The prosecutor explains that her sex life will be on trial in open court, while the perp's previous arrests for rape can't be mentioned. Does she really want to put herself through it? As the weak husband, Cox is no help at all. He can't give her any advice. Moreover he can't get the rape behind him and is impotent. It gets worse. He begins to doubt her story. The trial is unable to avoid some of the usual clichés. Montgomery leaps to her feet on the witness stand and screams, "Lies! All LIES!" The script is unsparing.
None of these criticisms of the film mitigates the horror associated with rape.
Then the innocent-looking young man assaults her again in an underground parking lot. This time he punches her and leaves her bruised, more or less forced now to report these incidents to the police.
It has to be said that the movie dates poorly and that the moral lesson is cheapened by the way it's structured. When I say "dated", I mean that the message was pertinent in 1974 when the movie was shown. We're more sophisticated about these things now. People take rape seriously and don't get it mixed up with rough but consensual intercourse. The person at the other end of 911 is going to tak you seriously. When we were in Newark, New Jersey, my son tried to call his mother in North Carolina. The area code is 901, but he dialed 911 by mistake and hung up at once when he realized the error. Five minutes later, two police officers knocked on the door with the snaps on their holsters unfastened. The responders are more considerate, the victims are more knowledgeable, and the community more understanding. It isn't 1974 anymore, and thank God for that.
When I say the story is structured in a way that cheapens the theme, I mean, for instance, that except for Elizabeth Montgomery and her children, everyone else is semi-moronic. After she reports the second rape, she's forced to undergo the complete rape kit, have photos of her bruises taken, and those who are doing the exam are brusque beyond belief. Montgomery sits huddled in the waiting room on a bench filled with pimps, cross-dressers, junkies, and other devalued people. Then some orderly with a clipboard enters the room and begins shouting, "We got a RAPE here? Who's the RAPE case. You have to sit in the wheelchair because RAPES aren't allowed to walk." And of course everyone is staring at the RAPE case. Certain medical venues aside, I have trouble swallowing a scene like that, even for 1974.
When she's in the stirrups, Montgomery asks about a uniformed police officer, "Does he have to be here?" "I'm afraid so," replies the doc, while permitting the officer to stand in a location that allows him to see her in her obstetric aspect. Pointless humiliation piled upon pointless humiliation. That's ridiculous.
It doesn't improve when she's interviewed by two detectives. They seem barely interested and treat her with disdain and sometimes sarcasm. They challenge her on simple points. Is she sure it was the same man both times? "Getting hit with a rape charge is a terrible thing to do to a man." The prosecutor explains that her sex life will be on trial in open court, while the perp's previous arrests for rape can't be mentioned. Does she really want to put herself through it? As the weak husband, Cox is no help at all. He can't give her any advice. Moreover he can't get the rape behind him and is impotent. It gets worse. He begins to doubt her story. The trial is unable to avoid some of the usual clichés. Montgomery leaps to her feet on the witness stand and screams, "Lies! All LIES!" The script is unsparing.
None of these criticisms of the film mitigates the horror associated with rape.