This is not a review of a dark, new independent film called Compliance, which I happily exited during the final scenes to spare myself the agony of watching it all the way through. I have walked out of some movies, including Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction (not on assignment) and do so when a movie is too offensive to watch. I know it’s not the prevailing view, and people can disagree with me, but reviewing movies is not a pact to commit psychological self-damage.
In the case of Compliance, which is supposedly based on a true story, I could see what was coming and it was impossible for me to continue to watch without being complicit in what is clearly the movie’s purpose: to render the viewer something of an accomplice, by one’s implied consent, to an act of sexual violence as titillation. There is no discernible artistic point to the movie other than to make one part of the “crime” by this method; every action leads to a violation of a young woman, not to create suspense or provoke thought about what one might do in such an instance. The instance here involves a prank caller who phones a fast food business, tells the manager that an employee has committed a crime and needs to be detained, strip-searched, and, later, eventually, molested. In real life, apparently, the accused caller was acquitted. The manager was convicted and sentenced to a year’s probation. The manager’s friend, who had been called upon to use sexual force, was convicted and sentenced to five years in prison. That any of this occurred may or may not bear relation to Compliance, though I doubt it, and I felt that to watch what on the film’s terms was inevitable was to approve of the movie’s inherent manipulation. Compliance, so far as I know, is a cheap piece of pornography and undeserving of a moment’s notice. I am confident that those who get their jollies watching nude young women being molested are already prowling the streets or fully stocked up on better quality porn.
I am writing about my experience with Compliance for two reasons: to warn decent people and fellow victims of sexual abuse – I wasn’t the only one to walk out – that this cinematic experience, including the audience’s reaction, may induce a sense of trauma. Don’t take that as any kind of compliment. The film is cheap and obvious in every sense and any decent human would feel like throwing up as I did while watching it. Also, I think my readers are entitled to know that my criteria for reviewing movies does not extend to all films. Even when I was reviewing films professionally – and Box Office Mojo publisher Brandon Gray to his credit backed me up on this without hesitation despite controversy among studios and readers – I refused to see certain films, especially horror films, based on content known in advance (other critics later followed my example). Movies are prospectively and legitimately powerful sources for fear, inspiration and rage and any range of thoughts and emotions. But it’s my view that a critic has no obligation to see every piece of trash in today’s depraved culture. I will not submit to exposing myself to motion pictures that I have reason to believe may be harmful to my health. Caveat emptor: Buyer beware.