Outrage

Ida Lupino was one of the few women to break through the directorial glass ceiling in Hollywood under the studio system. Not surprisingly, she also tackled proto-feminist themes that, when touched at all, were approached in so gingerly a manner that it was seldom quite clear what was being talked about. In Outrage, she treats rape and its aftermath, and though throughout the short movie it's referred to as `criminal assault,' she leaves, for once, no doubt about what happened.

Mala Powers (in her official debut) plays a secretary-bookkeeper at a big industrial plant; she lives with her parents but is engaged to a swell guy (Robert Clarke), who just got a raise and now makes $90 a week. Leaving the plant after working late one night, she finds herself being stalked. In the ensuing scene – the best in the movie – she tries to escape her pursuer in a forbidding maze of buildings and alleys but fails.

When she returns home, disheveled and in shock, the police can't get much out of her; she claims she never saw her attacker (who manned a snack truck outside the factory). Trying to pretend that nothing happened, she returns to her job but falls apart, thinking that everybody is staring at her, judging her. She goes into a fugue state, running away to Los Angeles on a bus but stumbling off at a rest stop.

Waking up in a strange ranch house, she learns that she's been rescued by Tod Andrews, a young minister in a California agricultural town. She lies about her identity and takes a job packing oranges. The two fall vaguely in love, but it's clear to Andrews that Powers is keeping dire secrets. When, at a company picnic, she seizes a wrench and cracks the skull of Jerry Paris, who was trying to steal a kiss, the truth about her past comes out....

It was a courageous movie to come out in 1950, and that may explain and excuse some of its shortcomings. Lupino never recaptures the verve of the early assault scene, and the movie wanders off into the bucolic and sentimental, ending up talky and didactic. Yes, Lupino had important information to impart, but she didn't trust the narrative to speak for itself. Her cast, pleasant but bland and generic, weren't much help, either, reverting to melodramatic postures or homespun reassurance. But Outrage was a breakthrough, blazing a trail for later discourse on what the crime of rape really is, and what it really means to its victims.

It was the first film dealing with the burning subject of rape.France,for instance,had to wait till 1977 to see a (female) director -Yannick Bellon- tackle this crime.Bellon had a different way to express her disgust in her "l'amour violé" :she showed the whole scene of the rape which lasted ten interminable minutes and she did not turn the audience into peeping toms ,far from it: most of the time,they had to look away .

Given the Hayes code ,and given the limitations she was working under,Lupino's movie is quite successful.We do not see the rape ,but its aftermath is depicted in lavish details:the scene at the office where the heroine cannot stand the familiar noises anymore is a great moment;the people on the street with their big smile who talk behind her back;the fiancé who cannot understand and who wants to carry on as if nothing has happened;every man becoming a living threat for her;all rings true.

It will take a man's patience,compassion and disinterested love to push Ann towards life again.

FILM: 7/10.

Outrage, directed by Ida Lupino, is a remarkable film that dared to challenge societal norms of its time. Released in 1950, Lupino took on the progressive and challenging task of directing a film as a woman, and not only that, but one that focused on the theme of sexual assault and its profound impacts. Even though more than seven decades have passed since its release, it's disheartening to realize that society still has a long way to go in addressing this issue.

Lupino masterfully balances the delicate line between ensuring the story's effectiveness and abiding by the restrictive guidelines set by the Hays Code. The film cleverly sidesteps explicit visuals and instead relies on the power of suggestion to convey the emotional toll inflicted on the protagonist. The result is a haunting portrayal of the psychological aftermath of sexual assault, painting a stark and disquieting picture that resonates even today.

The performances in Outrage are truly commendable. Mala Powers delivers a compelling performance as the victim of the assault, skillfully capturing the character's vulnerability, fear, and eventual strength. The supporting cast, including Tod Andrews and Robert Clarke, provide solid performances that add depth and nuance to the narrative.

However, the film's effectiveness is somewhat impacted by a significant shift in the story halfway through. The introduction of a clergyman and the subsequent exploration of religious themes take away from the film's initial focus on the consequences of sexual assault. While this thematic shift adds complexity to the narrative, it dilutes the impact of the central issue at times.

Despite this narrative detour, Outrage remains an important film that dared to tackle a sensitive subject in an era when it was largely ignored. Ida Lupino's directorial prowess shines through, challenging audiences to confront the lasting impacts of sexual assault. It serves as a reminder that although progress has been made, there is still much work to be done. Outrage is a poignant and thought-provoking film that deserves recognition for its boldness and the conversations it continues to spark.

FORMAT: Blu-ray

VIDEO: 7/10.

1080p presentation, Detail level: Good, Colour reproduction: Excellent, Level accuracy: Excellent, Encode: Good, Master condition: Good

AUDIO: 8/10.

LPCM 2.0 mono audio, Dialogue reproduction: Good, Soundtrack & effects clarity: Good, Dynamics: Good, Surround sound presentation: N/A, LFE content: N/A

MOOFIEMETER: 7/10.

"Outrage" is about rape, though the word is never mentioned. Directed and cowritten by Ida Lupino, it concerns a young woman (Mala Powers) who is engaged to be married and is raped on her way home from work. Traumatized and filled with shame, she runs away from home. She ends up in a community where she is attended to by a minister. However, she doesn't tell him what happened to her. Problems arise.

Though made 56 years ago, the elements of the film ring true, and of course, feelings don't change - the victim thinks she's dirty and behaves as if she is the criminal.

Mala Powers gives a very good performance, exhibiting the shock, nervousness, and terror of the victim. Though the script meanders a bit, Lupino does an excellent job of directing, particularly the action scenes.

In 1950, this film was probably ahead of its time. It's good to see to show us where we were (particularly with no DNA tests or rape kits) and where we are.

The didacticism and sheer sweetness (a function of film score as well as script and direction) of the cinematic action following the deft direction of a traumatic rape scene will strike many of today's viewers as dated. But upon closer inspection "Outrage" is subtle where least expected--both in terms of its understandings of rape and its expression of a feminine point of view in cinema.

Lupino will not allow a male finance's hasty and almost violent insistence on marriage immediately following the rape of the protagonist (played by Mala Powers) to become separated in the victim's--and by extension the viewer's--mind from the central theme, and plot-motivating device, of rape itself. The villainy of rape cannot be solved by the seemingly heroic gesture of the male, whose "sacrifice" places as much emphasis on the woman's exceptional circumstances as do the violation committed by the rapist. Such attempts to deny the reality of rape simply serve to ensure its persistence. The attempt to erase part of victim's past is another way of treating her as less than human.

The scene in which Powers' character hits an overly aggressive playboy with a wrench lacks the semblance of realism because Lupino shoots it from the point of view of the victim whose action in the present is dictated by the emotions triggered by her remembrance of the past. It's doubtful that any male director would have captured the scene in such non-violent, non-realistic detail and yet enabled us to see the action for what it is--an attempt by the character to erase the impression that the initial criminal act has left on her emotion-mental being.

Some modern viewers will no doubt accuse Lupino of being overly idealistic in portraying the rapist less as a criminal than himself the victim of an illness--one that would be curable, moreover, in a more socially aware and progressive culture. Unfortunately, the sheer logistics of psychological treatment leading to cures of those guilty of such heinous criminal acts will make Lupino's sentiments seem hopelessly naive to today's viewers. But is that sufficient reason to fault the director for acknowledging the gender divide as a two-way street?

Aside: Notice the scene in which the empowering new male friend is shown playing the piano from a camera POV just opposite his hands. In a subsequent scene, the piano is shown placed against the wall, which would make such a shot impossible.

As first I couldn't help but marvel at the similarity of a heavy detective to Hal March, host of the the highly popular "60,000 Question," prior to its exposure. Looking at the credits will reveal that it IS Hal March (the loss of 15-20 pounds obviously didn't hurt his career as much as the downfall of the popular quiz show).