On Location: France

Content warning: This column discusses sexual violence.

In the first scene in “Elle” (2016) following her violent sexual assault, Michelle Lèblanc (Isabelle Huppert) walks into her living room, cleans up the scene and picks up her cat. Looking at her cat with scrutinizing, measuring eyes, she holds him in a position reminiscent of a police interrogation. “Not even a meow,” she says and puts him down disappointedly. Soon after, at a dinner outing with her closest friends, Michelle announces that she has been raped. Her friends, shocked, ask her if she is okay. Seemingly taken aback, she nods glibly.

Dutch director Paul Verhoeven’s first project in French details the various conflicts that arise following Michelle’s assault and the subsequent cat-and-mouse revenge plot she concocts. The film has attracted numerous headlines for its violent content and generated controversy over the events that follow Michelle’s rape. Some trauma experts have argued that Michelle’s actions in the film are atypical of people who have experienced sexual violence. However, if a concrete argument can be drawn out of the film's convoluted storyline, it seems to be a determination to show that there is no 'right' way to be a victim.

As for Michelle, it can be argued that her case is far more unique than most. She is the daughter of one of France’s most infamous mass murderers. As the head of a video game company mostly staffed by men, many of whom despise her, she must navigate anonymous threats from her employees. In one of the film’s red herring subplots, a video is circulated throughout the company in which her head is photoshopped onto the body of a video game character who is violently attacked by a monster. In short, Michelle is a woman well-versed in violence. Huppert gives a masterclass, Golden Globe-winning performance in which each glance, each reaction and each furrow of the brow tells an intricate story of her lifelong struggle with violence, resilience and psychosis.

In fact, Michelle seems to feel that monsters are what she knows best. At one point, she argues that her actions toward her rapist are very much within her repertoire, saying, “I know how to deal with nutjobs. They're my specialty.” Indeed, Michelle seems to relish in her dangerous cat-and-mouse pursuit of her rapist. Her triumph takes place when she undoes this history of monstrosity to forge a new identity for herself, at least for a time. The question Verhoeven ominously asks, however, is whether she will be able to fully escape the violence, considering the fact that it dominated so much of her adult life.

In light of that question, "Elle" feels like a daring statement, challenging conceptions of female empowerment despite our society's long history of female victimhood, which has historically been especially prevalent in wealthy, powerful nations like France. To call "Elle" strictly an empowering film may feel somewhat dangerous because of the film's extremely violent content. However, “Elle” certainly makes a choice to explore what happens when Michelle delves further into danger.