Lucky McKee's "The Woman": The Most Disturbing Film You'll See This Year

Heading in to the Boston Underground Film Fest’s screening of Lucky Mckee’s latest film The Woman, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Controversy surrounds the film after a highly publicized freak out by a patron lambasting the work as disgusting and morally bankrupt at Sundance. Combing through mention of the film online, it’s almost impossible to find a review of the film, as most commentary has focused on reaction from this event. The Woman is a collaboration with Jack Ketchum and a follow up to the novel and film Offspring. For those not familiar with either, no prior knowledge is needed in order to follow The Woman.

While out hunting, suburban dad Chris Cleek (Sean Bridgers) spies a feral woman bathing in a creek, abducts her and chains her up in the family storm cellar. After subduing the woman (at the cost of his ring finger), Cleek brings his family down to introduce them to his new trophy. Under the guise of civilizing the feral creature, Cleek indulges all manner of abuse and torture on his captive.

The individual reactions to the strung up and shackled woman’s appearance speak volumes with regards to their standing in the family. Youngest daughter Darlin’ sees her as something akin to a pet. You can practically see the wheels turning in budding psychopath Brian’s (Zach Rand) mind as he mulls over how much he can get away with when alone with the woman in the basement. Teenaged Peggy (Lauren Ashley Carter) reacts in silent horror. It’s Angela Bettis as suburban wife Belle that drives the point home just how cowed Cleek has his family. Bettis’ expression completely lacks any notion of disagreement with her husband. Her look suggests complacency and a sense of confusion as to how she allowed her life to slip down this path.   

Many will find The Woman a difficult film to stomach. McKee pulls no punches in depicting abuse heaped not only on the captive woman, but also in showing the strict control Cleek exerts over every woman in his household. Bridgers plays the patriarch as a mostly mild mannered suburban dad, equally capable of doling out advice to his son to practice his free throws and delivering a crack across his wife’s jaw when just the slightest suggestion of disobedience arises. McKee presents the violence of Cleek as something casual and an accepted part of the daily routine. There’s a bit of “Father Knows Best” going on in the film, which makes the torture heaped on his captive all the more shocking. Bridger doesn’t have to raise a voice or a fist to force his women to submit. He’s unafraid to use violence when it suits his purpose, but even here, McKee presents it with a matter of fact up front manner that makes his actions all the more terrifying than the caricature of an abuser audiences have come to expect from a film. Friends left the screening visible shaken and angry at what they’d just witnessed. Discussing the film with friends, the question cam up as to whether a five minute payoff at the climax redeems eighty minutes of brutality that came before it. (Andre Dumas' superb review of the film in FanGirtastic is a must read)

A larger part of The Woman’s power comes from the outstanding performances of the three female leads. These performances  make the film and McKee’s direction a compelling watch.

Pollyanna McIntosh reprises her role as the feral cave woman from The Offspring. Through little more than guttural howls and facial expressions her performance elicits sympathy for her plight.  Even though she’s lived in the woods and has no concept of civilization, she still understood the indignity of what was being done to her. Aside from just physical pain, McIntosh conveys the psychological toll that the continued depravities have on her.

Carter plays the role of the daughter wide eyed and terrified like an animal that has had her nose shoved in to its own shit a few times too many. She is sullen and moody, and often looks to escape into fantasy worlds through music or her art. Though it is never explicitly made clear, McKee often hints at a nonconsensual and incestuous relationship between father and daughter. At the very least we learn she’s pregnant, a fact that fills her with abject terror. A pivotal moment where her father sits beside her on her bed and talks about her future while she cowers in a ball waiting for him to leave tells you everything you need to know about their relationship. Her character is the only one in the family to show the woman any sympathy, and is the only one willing to step in when her father takes things too far.

In many ways it’s Angela Bettis’ role as the wife that holds The Woman together. If the audience could not buy in to her as anything except a completely shell shocked wife that would never dare turn her husband in, the film wouldn’t work. Bettis plays her character as someone that initially comes to expect and even accept her role in the family as nothing more than the maker of meals, the roller of cigarettes and the bringer of beer. At the film's outset she can’t fathom questioning her husband at all, silently fetching him whatever he asks her to bring in to the basement. Even outside the home she struggles for normalcy. During a conversation with an acquaintance she bumps in to at the market, you can almost see her searching the internal databanks for answers that are normal and acceptable to an outsider. Bettis eventually comes to see the woman as her out. In a tense sequence, the audience and the captive think that Bettis will finally turn on her husband, only to have her point out that the screws holding her in place are weakening. The captive female draws attention away from the wife, and offers her husband a new plaything to visit the physical and mental torture Bettis’ character has endured for years. This is a chance to ease her burden a bit, and she’s going to take it. Ironically, it’s this inch of freedom the distraction of the woman offers which allow her to stand up for herself and her daughters that kick off the horrific finale.

As difficult as McKee’s film is to sit through at times, it’s essential viewing. Fans and critics often decry modern horror as lacking the fortitude to tackle difficult subject matter with any substance. McKee presents a portrait of systematic abuse and violence that goes on behind the close doors of many a seemingly happy suburban home. He does not sensationalize the violence like the Hostels or Saws of the world. In the past year films like A Serbian Film and The Human Centipede have garnered headlines with shocking material and graphic, exaggerated on screen violence.Mckee takes the opposite tact by almost underplaying what we see on screen. He focuses more on the characters facial expressions to convey the toll these acts exact on both the giver and recipient of abuse.  By forcing audiences to draw their own conclusions, The Woman one of the most compelling and disturbing films you’ll see this year.