Baise-moi

Baise-moi is the second example of the recent French Graphic Rape Wave of cinema. Like a skanky French Natural Born Killers but without the talent, irony or indeed entertainment, the heavy-handed symbolism and maddening acting should have you turning off after the first 40 minutes. You continue to watch however, mainly though a fascination as to how far the director is willing to push the boundaries of good taste in order to convince us of his point. Something to do with society raping people and by-products of the system, a reflection of the perversity at the root of civilisation, monkeys with guns and Girl Power.

Joining the sensational release of Irreversible, with its centrepiece a nine minute rape scene, it could look to some that modern French cinema had found itself in a quandary, desperately seeking its next big theme in the rapidly thinning file of the last taboos. Thankfully, L'Homme du train dispelled those fears,at least for now. And maybe just two films don't make a wave, perhaps just a ripple.

However, nothing changes the fact that when the closing credits finally arrived, I was angry. Because it was rubbish. Not a patch on the glory of La Haine which dealt with a similar rage, but with far more heart and intelligence. Baise-Moi also has the worst soundtrack ever. I've got to stop wasting my life watching all these terrible films.

Take excessive violence, add a some hardcore porn scenes and French alternative rock music and what you´ve got is a hip and provoking movie, a shocking and disturbing portrait of generation X... STOP - because this formula doesn´t work always!!! "Baise moi!" ("Fuck me!") wants to be a piece of modern art, but it´s only a little stupid flick with a nearly nonexisting plot, surface characters and nutty dialogues! The film is shot with a hand-held camera and the amateur illumination and the shady set decoration convey you every time that feeling to be in a real porn movie. The special scenes including close-ups of sexual practices were just added to break another taboo, but they make this film looking more and more cheap, scruffy and repulsive. Serious provocations make you think about possible deplorable states of affairs, but "Baise moi!" is only pure showmanship without any message! Nevertheless this movie is very boring: the scanty 75 minutes (German version) seemed to last for an eternity... (1/10)

Why are people so outraged by BAISE-MOI (which literally means F**K ME, the English language title is a travesty) ? Is it because of the explicit sex (far more fleeting than that shown in any porno tape freely available at most corner video shops), the stylized ultra-violence or the combination of the two ? Unlike some films, this one doesn't in any way glorify violence though, it merely shows the sad inevitability of it as far as its two main characters are concerned.

Both Nadine (Karen Lancaume aka Karen Bach) and Manu (Raffaella Anderson) routinely endure violation both in word and deed on an almost daily basis as sex workers, prostitute and part-time porno performer respectively. The gang rape of Manu and her drug-addicted friend shown here is totally different from the clichéd they-may-protest-at-first type of rape scene encountered in some adults only features. While the other girl cries and screams throughout (and is ever more horribly abused because of it), Manu adopts a facade of indifferent resignation, cleverly robbing her rapists of their sadistic thrill. Rest assured that the scene goes on a lot longer than anyone would want it to and that it is very painful to watch, which is the whole point of it.

When Manu and Nadine meet and embark on their violent road trip, fully aware that they ultimately can't 'get away with it', sex becomes a source of liberation to them. Like so many guys on the lam in any criminal buddy movie you can think of, they take what they want, when and how they want it, casually discarding (not always violently) their casual partners post-orgasm. One of the most common accusations at porn's address is that the explicit sex scenes dehumanize the people performing them, but here that could not be further from the truth.

Former hardcore actresses Lancaume and Anderson are both terrific in their parts and the sex they have (and, yes, it is 'real' sex) enhances their characterizations, rendering them more complete. The 'cinema vérité' rawness of the digital video format in which it was shot, interrupted by sudden flashes of style when violence erupts (an artistic decision to give the viewer a feel for the power and pleasure the women derive from their acts as an escape route from their drab lives), draws the viewer uncomfortably close to the action. Again, that seems to be the point.

So don't let the negative publicity fool you. BAISE-MOI is a rare film that utterly achieves what it sets out to do and it bodes well for debut cinéastes Despentes (author of the sulfurous source novel) and ex-porn star Coralie. You may love it (as I obviously did) or you may hate it, but this is an important film that no one is likely to ever forget, no matter how hard they might try.

I'm not exactly a Francophile. I love the cooking but hate the restaurants. French is one of the great languages of the world, but I find the French attitude to it xenophobic. Yet there is one thing that always stirs my passion. I admire them for it. I wish we had an ounce of it in Britain.

The best known examples of course are the film protests in 1968 – a time when everyone was protesting about everything. But they helped, indirectly, to restore the international prestige of French cinema. When Baise-Moi was banned shortly after release in 2000, there were spontaneous street protests. Now this is a bit different – the film's artistic merits or lack of them are still a matter of debate. But I take my hats off to the French. I would love to see the British protest in the name of cinematic freedom. (The ban was eventually lifted after separate protests signed by Parisian intellectuals.)

As you will already have guessed, the issues around this film are complicated. And they get worse. There is a tendency to react emotively to any highly charged sexual issues. This tendency can maybe blind us somewhat when it comes to analysing more important ones.

This is a film made by women, about women living on the fringes of society. I was once importunate enough to argue with acclaimed filmmaker Gaspar Noé (after a public screening of Irreversible) that his film didn't address the issue of rape as well as Baise Moi. I still believe that, although Irreversible is a landmark film for other reasons entirely. Most films about rape follow male-orientated story lines. They often emphasise the purely physical, violence-aspect (as in Irreversible) or have a strong woman seeking and finding redress (as in The Accused). The reality is that most rape victims are traumatised mentally and emotionally. Physical hurt as a result of violence is no less an issue, but a separate one. Although The Accused looks at some of the metal trauma, it ultimately plays out as a success story. Few rape victims take on such a masculinised determination to succeed against the odds. Odds which are still stacked against the victim.

What I liked about Baise-Moi is that it eschews the woman-survivor scenario for a more realistic picture of lasting psychological damage. Films that show the real horror of rape may discourage it more than ones that show women 'getting over it.' One of the victims of rape in Baise-Moi actually 'lets' her assailants get on with it, commenting to her friend afterwards that at least they didn't wind up dead. The rape (and the violence) of Baise-Moi convinced me that she probably hedged her bets wisely. Her lack of struggle didn't, in my mind, make her any the less a victim. And neither did the unpleasant fact that she was a part-time prostitute make her any more 'deserving.' This is something that it is not easy to live with. As a society, we have moved past the point where a girl in a short skirt acting flirtatiously (The Accused) is 'asking for it' or 'deserving of rape.' But where is our cut-off point? The marginals in society are often seen as dispensable. No-one wants to acknowledge them – least of all mainstream filmmakers. Yet they can be just as much victims.

Another thing I like about Baise-Moi is that the two girls that form a bond and go on a road trip are fully developed as characters. Like most young women, they enjoy having a good time and going after boys. But they have been mentally scarred. One of them has been brutally gang-raped and the other has watched her only friend being killed. They are not 'good girls gone bad'. They are fairly 'bad' already. But they are still victims. Beneath their bravado their mental deterioration is apparent. In Black Snake Moan, the horrific effects of a redneck woman's history of sexual abuse and rape are given some time through Christina Ricci's great acting, but the plot is driven by male characters towards a stupid and not very believable conclusion. In Baise-Moi, it is the trauma that the women went through that drives the plot. (Sadly one of the main actresses, Karen Bach committed suicide in 2005.) The film is arguably weakened by a change of style. The initial scenes are very realistic, including the horrific rape. But then the main protagonists go on a killing spree reminiscent of Natural Born Killers on trash aesthetic. Perhaps this is appropriate – they live in la-la land as long as they can. But it will confuse some viewers.

"To reclaim women's rights over their true sexuality, to seize it back from the male gaze. It's always men who have a problem with a woman's sex: that's their problem, not ours." A noble aim by the filmmakers. But will feminists baulk when they realise that one of the directors and two of the stars have previously worked in hard-core pornography? "There's no logical reason why sex scenes should only be in porn," says Trinh Thi. Indeed, Hollywood agrees. I am sure there are convincing psychological arguments, but realistic sex still upsets many audiences (personally I have more of a problem with overly-realistic violence).

This analysis has outstayed its welcome. I have laboured the good points of the film and rated it accordingly. On a technical level, the idea of using only natural lighting also works well. But apart from its stand against censorship and the way it deals with rape, the film is lacking in many respects. It was made on a very small budget and it shows. The acting is acceptable but not much is demanded from actors in terms of interiorisation and so on. There's a good soundtrack. But the main reason to see the film may probably be to argue over the issues it raises.

I first saw a poster advertising this film on a street in Helsinki, Finland in June of 2000. What caught my attention was the proud proclamation advising all readers that the movie, although itself French, had been "Banned in France". Upon returning home to New York, I discovered that one of the "Art House" movie theaters in the City was screening the film, and so (with my Finnish fiancee) decided to see what all the fuss was about. Boy, did we ever.

From the comments read here, and the reviews I knew the movie was violent and sexually explicit. Not necessarily offended by either of these two conditions, I went with an open mind to see what had perturbed the sensibilities of our Gallic cousins. Presumably, as anyone who is reading this will know, the story involves two women who embark on a crime and murder spree in France (the movie has English subtitles). The resemblance to "Thelma and Louise" however, ends with that; the sex is unusually graphic (and in copious supply) as is the violence (a lot of stomping to death, and a lot of blood and other organic matter splattering after bullet impact).

On an intellectual level, one could make the case that the film's very essence is the relationship of sex and violence (as manifested by the only sex these women know: one is a small-time prostitute, and the other has earned money from time to time by performing in pornographic films. When they, during their descent into crime and murder, have the upper hand over their sexual situations, they react only with the same violence and brutality that they themselves know and understand. It is important to note, however, that the victims of their rampage are not only creepy men interested in creepy sex, (of which there are several)but innocent passersby, a woman at an ATM, for example, as well.

I myself do not really understand why the repeated "porn-movie" shots were all that necessary, (except to depict the physical contact as cruel, unpassionate and debased) and the unrelenting gore did get rather tedious after the first few violent spasms.

It is a coarse and crude movie, but in fairness, it is dealing with coarse and crude people and equally unpleasant circumstances. From one point of view, the lives of the French underclasses is explored, and it's pretty grim; a travelogue for France it definitely is not- perhaps that's why the French banned it.