by James H. Lilley

The movie Hounddog portrays Dakota Fanning as a 12-year-old rape victim in 1950s Alabama. The film has stirred a great deal of outrage from various groups and widespread defense from its producers, promoters and actors. In response to portions of the criticism, Robin Wright Penn said, “It’s uncomfortable to see a 12 year old portray the truth, but everybody needs to allow it. I’m not saying accept it, but stop trying to censor it.” Deborah Kampmeier, the writer/director of the film said, “She (Dakota Fanning) should be applauded for the voice she has given to so many silenced women.” A critic’s review said after the rape scene the attack was never mentioned again, nor was it reported to police. It was his opinion the scene was in the film merely for its shock value. If this is true, something’s been lost in translation regarding this movie.

Rape is a vile, savage act of brutality committed against a woman and its sole purpose is to control, dominate and demean her in every way possible. The voice representing the silenced women is the voice that screams for justice. The woman who reports her attack and demands some measure of justice for what’s happened to her. This is also the woman who isn’t fighting just for herself, but for each and every victim of rape and sexual assault, reported and unreported. She’s going to spit right in the face of the system that’s failed so many others and the attorney who defends her attacker. She doesn’t give a damn that she’s going to be on trial and have her personal life torn apart by the defendant’s attorney. She knows her attacker’s attorney is going to tell the jury that he’s a candidate for sainthood and it’s she who was the aggressor. She viscously beat herself in front of his client and forced him to have sex with her. She knows that and still takes the stand and tells the jury what happened. She stands up to the fierce cross-examination and stares down her assailant when he tries to seduce her with a smile as she testifies. She’s the woman with the courage to stand up in front of others, tells them in blunt, no holds barred terms what happened to her and tries to convince them to do the same. That’s the voice speaking for the silent women—not your 12-year-old on the screen.

There’s no truth or voice speaking for others when the assault is never reported or mentioned again in your movie. It’s all about money—nothing else. The buildup and advertising of the rape scene is no more than a scheme to lure people into spending their money and filling your pockets.

Law and Order: Special Victims Unit on the other hand speaks volumes about and for the victims of rape/sexual assault and the police who investigate the crimes. I can especially relate to Christopher Meloni’s portrayal of the angry cop who allows his emotions to run wild from time to time. I can relate to him and his portrayal of that angry cop because I’ve been there—I’ve lived his part. I know how it feels to look a rapist in the eyes and want to rip his heart out and shove it down his throat. And, God, I confess that I’ve wanted to do it on more than one occasion.

I listened to a young woman tell a story about her rape from a hospital bed while doctors and nurses came and went. The longer I listened the more enraged I became. It was difficult to keep my anger in check and not let her see the effect it was having on me. But this attack wasn’t something that had happened on the spur of the moment. She was raped by a neighbor and as her story unfolded it was evident that he’d planned on having her one way or another from the day he first saw her moving in two doors away. The opportunity presented itself in a way that was completely innocent to her, a few drinks with friends in a pub when her new neighbor casually dropped by. From the moment he sat down his scheme was running at full throttle and tonight was the night. Before she knew it she was alone with him in his car because he sent her friends home while she was talking with someone a few tables away. They’d left her there thinking it was okay. After all, he did live in the neighborhood and claimed they were close friends. He pulled off the road, told her he knew how much she wanted him and they should just enjoy themselves. When she told him he was wrong, that she wanted nothing to do with him sexually or any other way, he attacked her. The beating he gave her was unmerciful. Her face was swollen and bruised, her teeth knocked loose, both eyes blackened and he’d ripped clumps of hair from her head. Her arms were bruised from her shoulders to her wrists where he’d punched her repeatedly. He dragged her from his car, punched and kicked her again and again before finally tearing her clothes off and raping her.

I left the hospital and, along with another uniformed officer, went to her attacker’s home to arrest him. When we arrived I could see the curtains part briefly and knew he was watching us. We knocked on the door and after a few minutes it opened. He gave us a feigned yawn and said we awakened him from a sound sleep. After telling him he was under arrest, he said, “I gave that bitch what she’s been lookin’ for and now she’s gonna scream rape.” It took every ounce of self control I could muster to just put the handcuffs on him and lead him out to my car. What I really wanted was for him to resist arrest, but he went as meek as a little lamb. On the ride to the police station he bragged about being the neighborhood stud and every woman wanted what he had. He laughed as he told me how often he scored with his neighbor’s wives and girlfriends. I never said a word. I knew one of our detectives was on the way to interview him so I tired to avoid any conversation. Besides, I knew if I started talking that somewhere along the way he just might push a button and I’d do what I’d wanted to do from the instant I laid eyes on him. And when I closed the cell door behind him he stepped up to the bars, looked at me and said, “You’d really like to kill me, wouldn’t you?” I answered very calmly, “Yes, I would.” He laughed saying “I knew that when I looked in your eyes.”

Sadly, this man would never stand trial. The victim wouldn’t stand up and speak for herself. She was absolutely terrified of what would happen if she took the stand and told a judge and jury what he’d done to her. She was afraid that he’d kill her and her husband if she testified. Rather than face him again, they moved away. There is a woman who stood up and fought back, but not before she nearly died from wounds inflicted by her attacker. When she recovered she proved to all of us that she was indeed a woman of tremendous courage and conviction. She agreed to a taped interview that would be shown in police training classes and rape crisis centers. She wasn’t afraid to answer questions in public forums and she took the stand, testified and saw her attacker sentenced to prison. She’s the voice for the silent women that Deborah Kampmeier spoke of. This woman’s attack wasn’t gone and forgotten the instant it was over, like that shown on the screen. She lived the
uncensored truth that Robin Penn says we need to allow to be portrayed on our movie screens.

Then too, if this movie fails our rape victims and molested children, we can’t overlook our justice system. Far too often our courts have allowed the victims of these crimes of violence to be tried instead of the defendant. And I’m not talking about the adult victims only; I’m speaking of young children as well. Attorney’s sometimes will stop at nothing to get a client found not guilty or have the charges dropped before the case is brought before a jury. Child molesters often beat the system because prosecutors are forewarned about the methods the defense plans to employ when they have the victim on the stand. Rather than have a five, six or seven year old portrayed as a cheap slut while they testify; prosecutors will offer a plea bargain to spare the child and their family that torture. And how many times have women been told in open court they got what they deserved? Or they were probably asking for it? More than most will ever know.

The anger shown by Christopher Meloni on Law and Order: SVU is very, very real. Yet, he does well in showing both sides of the coin in his role of Detective Stabler. He also has to be the good guy when talking with a suspect, while hoping to win his confidence and maybe a confession. He has to be the best friend of the rapist seated across from him. Not an easy task I assure you. I won’t say that I’m speaking for every police officer, man or woman who works violent crimes, but I know the anger and hate I’ve felt in dealing with it. And like Detective Stabler, I’ve headed for a drink—hell, more often than not several drinks, after dealing with something especially brutal. Then again, there are times, just like in Stabler’s life, when pounding the hell out of a heavy bag is the only way to vent the pent up feelings of hate and anger. Of course, it’s far better to pummel the heavy bag until exhausted rather than trying to drown your feelings in booze. Pouring alcohol on an already burning fire only makes the cauldron hotter.

I found other outlets too, writing being one of them. I think I used my first published novel “A Question of Honor” to vent my anger about many things. In between the covers of that book is so many things not only thousands of police officers wish they could do, but also the innumerable victim’s of crime. But I simply used words as my sword of vengeance.

Depicting rape for profit, is in my opinion just another failure of our entire society. How long will it be before someone accused of rape uses Hounddog as his defense?