I May Destroy You: An Honest Depiction Of Sexual Assault In All Of Its Forms
In the wake of November 25th, the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women, something has changed in the public discussion this year. Activists and public figures spoke up about the staggering statistics of the violence directed to women– just in Italy, 1 woman out of 3 has been a victim of violence (ISTAT). Newspapers were called out for victim-blaming articles, and consequently apologized for it, pledging to do better. The public sphere seems to be, finally, grasping the problem.
It is vital to talk about sexual violence, to break this taboo and create a tangible change. And it is undeniable, that the entertainment industry has a big role to play in this situation. After recently rewatching one of my favourite TV shows, I realized something: the way sexual violence is depicted on screen is damaging for survivors and for society as a whole.
I'm an avid consumer of TV series. It is a medium I love, with its ability to stretch the plot through a long timeframe, sometimes across many years, creating a space for unconventional stories, fast adaptation to societal changes, and deep character development.
However, despite having watched hundreds of TV shows in my life, I genuinely struggle to find one that depicts sexual abuse and its psychological consequences, in a way that doesn't make me want to turn off my computer immediately.
Photo from HBO’s “I May Destroy You”
Take, for example, the widely acclaimed "Game of Thrones". Even though violence and sex were a well-known characteristic of the show, a disturbing number of rape scenes are depicted throughout the eight seasons: according to Vice, 17 rapes are shown on-screen just in the first five seasons. One in particular (the Black Wedding, for the fans), depicting one of the main female characters as a victim, was particularly violent and still haunts me to this day.
"Peaky Blinders", another show acclaimed by the public and critics, follows a similar pattern. In particular, almost all of its female leads are sent by men, at different moments of the story, as literal bargain meat, at the mercy of other men to abuse them with a varying intensity of violence. As if this was not enough, the scenes are usually followed by overt slut-shaming from their friends and family members. Yikes.
"Mad Men", "Downton Abbey", "Scandal"... I could go on. Too many recent TV shows fall into the easy trap of using sexual violence as a cheap plot device. Rape almost becomes “mainstream”, adding a touch of drama, taken for granted for a main female character to be treated as relevant to the storyline. It is used and abused by writers to be a shock element, without even remotely addressing the real, long-lasting, often life-changing aftermaths of a sexual assault.
Photo from HBO’s “I May Destroy You”
For years, we have been fed narratives from the eyes of people who do not know what being a victim of rape means. Writers, viewers, and critics have justified the use of it, in the name of giving the victim a reason to seek revenge, adding “realism” to period-drama, or providing the excuse of “fighting for a woman’s honor” for male characters to take the lead.
My main question is then: are these narrative that essential for a storyline? Do characters need such a punishment to be considered interesting? And, most importantly, why aren’t we more bothered by the romanticization of rape and violence?
Fortunately, some TV releases in the last few years have provided some reasons to be hopeful. Shows such as "Unbelievable" and "Grand Army" premiered on Netflix this year, and brilliantly tackle the topic of survivors and the lonely journey they are forced to go through.
I can also honestly say that one particular series has been life-changing for me: the critically acclaimed 12-episodes British series "I May Destroy You", released in June 2020 and written, produced, and directed by the brilliant Michaela Coel.
The series follows Arabella, a Millennial star-novelist who, the night before the deadline of her second book, decides to forget her writer's block by going on a night out with some friends. The next morning, however, when she is back in her office handing the first draft of her book, she cannot recall most of the events that happened that night. Soon enough, it becomes evident that she was sexually assaulted.
Photo from HBO’s “I May Destroy You”