Sundance 2021: ‘Violation’ & ‘Knocking’, reviewed

Violation, Image courtesy Sundance Institute

Violation, dir. Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli

Written and directed by Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli, Violation initially premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2020 before its American debut at Sundance earlier this month. The film is the duo’s first feature film, though as a team, they’ve already knocked out several shorts that tackle similarly distressing themes as this one—namely, the isolating effects of sexual abuse and the harmfulness of rape culture. As I said previously, the rape-revenge genre is complicated and can be tricky to pull off—it’s impossible to hide behind the veneer of fictionalization if you come across as exploiting the real-life trauma that hundreds of thousands endure each year. I said, too, that if Violation were to succeed, it would need to add substantially to the discourse. This is a subject matter that is too real, too personal, and too relevant to write off as nothing more than a plot device.

With this in mind, Violation is a powerful entry in the genre that draws its strength as much from the empathetic connection with Miriam (Sims-Fewer) as it does any blood, gore, or violence. The film doesn’t use trauma as a vehicle to deliver a hyper-violent climax. Rather, it focuses on the exploration of the character’s trauma and its subsequent effect on her and her relationships. Falling in line with other recent rape-revenge thrillers like Coralie Fargeat’s Revenge (2017) or Natalia Leite’s M.F.A. (2017), Violation eschews the more commonly anonymous attackers as in The Last House on the Left (1972) and I Spit on Your Grave (1978), instead focusing on a much more realistic antagonist—not a stranger, but a man who already has a relationship with his victim. In Miriam’s case, this turns out to be her brother-in-law, Dylan. But, Violation takes this one step further and though her rapist is unquestionably the villain, pains are taken to show that in his mind, the subtle cues preceding the attack constituted consent. Dylan’s concept of consent is so clouded that he honestly believes the crime was one in which they both share blame—that passion got the better of both of them. The incredulity he shows when Miriam confronts him showcases the mindset that allows rape culture to flourish. In lieu of any real discussion of consent, Dylan is conditioned to believe that Miriam’s drunken, half-conscious protests are actually affirmations in the throes of passion. It’s a dangerous and destructive misunderstanding that sits firmly at the root of our victim-blaming society.

Madeleine Sims-Fewer’s performance is excellent. It’s clear how personal this film is for her and she lays everything bare. Her emotions are real, they’re visceral, and they’re honest. There’s never a point where she becomes the stone-faced juggernaut that strides toward her goal with the cold efficiency of Rambo. Her vengeance is one of pain and trauma—a last-ditch effort at justice when all other avenues are barred to her. 

I could honestly talk for hours about Violation; it was easily one of the most impressive debuts I saw at the festival, but there’s so much more that’s just better seen. Hopefully, I’ll get the chance to revisit it on wider release, but in the meantime, take my recommendation with a heavy dose of content warnings—the comparisons to Haneke and Von Trier are deserved.

Knocking, dir. Frida Kempff

Knocking, Image courtesy of Sundance Institute

Then there is Knocking. I seem to be in the minority, based on conversations with other attendees, but Frida Kempff’s sophomore feature was an enormous disappointment for me. The synopsis describes Knocking as “an indictment of gaslight culture and our willingness to believe women and those with mental illness,” and it is! It’s an admirable topic to tackle and one that is certainly relevant, but does it have something to add that hasn’t been covered? Not really. Unsane (2018), or The Girl on the Train (2016), or Changeling (2008), or Flightplan (2005), or The Forgotten (2004), or Gothika (2003), or even Gaslight (1944) have all worked with the theme to a certain extent. Granted, some of those comparisons are more apt than others, but ultimately, just like it was for Violation, the onus is on Knocking to bring new understanding to the topic—it’s no longer enough to rehash the same arguments without bringing anything else to the table. 

Cecilia Milocco stars as Molly, who has just moved into her new apartment (an introduction that draws on its own vast lineage of horror films) when she begins to hear a light tapping from her ceiling. As she starts asking around, nobody else seems to know what she’s talking about. And that’s about it. 

There are building blocks of some pretty interesting intrigue that gets peppered in, but those are quickly dropped in favor of the flatter, more standard main plot, which is a shame because any sense of originality would certainly have lain within those loose threads. If Kempff had chosen to follow through with even one of the twists that she seemed to be leading toward, I might have come out of it singing a very different tune, but as it was, the resolution felt painfully predictable, which is especially disappointing considering how little characterization the antagonist had. 

I went in with high hopes for this film and it came within a hair’s breadth of hitting my preview for most anticipated pictures, so it breaks my heart to have to include this with Eight for Silver at the bottom of the barrel, though it bears repeating: I seem to be in the minority. Luckily, though, next week’s edition is nothing but good news with recaps of We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, Coming Home, and Censor.

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Article written by Ande Thomas

Ande loves the intersection of sci-fi and horror, where our understanding of the natural world clashes with our fear of the new and unknown. He writes about monsters and foreign horror and can also be found over on Letterboxd.