Rory’s rape, and how I fixed it
CW: sexual assault
This is gonna end with hope, but it’ll get dark first. I encourage you to skip this one if you’re gonna get triggered. If you just want to read the part where I re-write the ending of Black Mirror episode 1 to make it feminist and healing, scroll to the italicized chunk at the bottom.
Here’s a soothing gif of Moana turning toward Te Ka (a symbol of her own internal struggles) with kindness and compassion to cushion you from the rest of the post while you go click something else.
soothing moana gifI’m writing this post because I got triggered, and writing through my feelings helps me get to the end of those feelings so I don’t get stuck in PTSD-land.
Okay here we go.
I know I’m late to the party, but I finally clicked Black Mirror on Netflix. I didn’t notice it went straight to Season 5, and I watched those three and really liked them. I mean, that cast, amiright? Wow! The acting, so amazing. And the not-too-distant future sci-fi-ness is right up my genre alley. So then I noticed these were the latest episodes, so I thought okay I’ll go back and watch from the beginning.
That was a terrible idea. Look, I’ve been writing a book for several years, and in doctoral school before that, so I’ve been living under a rock. I didn’t know about the… pig. I thought, like the Season 5 episodes, the ending of the first episode would be surprising in some twisty way, but not a misogynist misunderstanding of how trauma works.
In case you were under a rock, too, the premise is this: a kidnapper threatens to kill a British princess unless the Prime Minister has sex with a pig on live TV. I expected it to turn into some technological twist. Nope. The PM is coerced into having sex he doesn’t want to have (which is the definition of rape), and I don’t enjoy watching that kind of thing, so I fast forwarded through what I thought was an unnecessarily long montage of the PM crying and the television audience reacting in a variety of ways. And then when I saw the PM on a bathroom floor puking into a toilet, I thought, “that’s correct.” and continued watching.
The actor who plays the PM is Rory Kinnear, whom I saw play Macbeth at the National Theater last summer. He was amazing on stage: so thoughtful, so specific. He went all the way to the end of each feeling, so the theatricality felt complete rather than overblown. And in his performance in Black Mirror, I saw all that thoughtfulness and understanding of where feelings lead. When his character is told that he’s going to have to go through with it, he’s not only disgusted, but also afraid and ashamed and not telling anyone how he feels because that would be “weak.” And then that turns to just dread and horror. It’s a beautiful performance. And then I fast-forwarded through most of the “during” part and I’m not going to watch it just so I can confirm that it was a good performance. But I can tell you that him on the bathroom floor felt 100% true and right.
But then the episode ends a year later with the PM’s wife being cold and distant. You see, earlier in the episode, she had asked him to make sure it doesn’t happen, because it would be humiliating for both of them. And the general consensus is that the event was art because it made a statement about people’s voyeurism that kept the streets empty while the princess was roaming free.* And then the episode was over. And then I was triggered. Because Rory and I thought through where the feelings go, but no one else making the show did.
Because this man is a rape survivor, and his trauma is ignored. Rory Kinnear’s portrayal made me think they were going to recognize and acknowledge the human violation that had taken place, the pain he would carry. Nope. If we see him as a victim at all, it’s of a prank, not sexual assault. He’s the butt of a joke. “Can you believe this guy is still in public life even though he did that????” His approval rating has only risen 3%, the doofus.
Since I was now triggered, I ruminated on the rest of the episode. In hindsight, I could see what bothered me, and there were lots of things,** but one problem showed me how to fix it:
No one walked away from their TV during the broadcast! A few women looked away from the screen, but the whole point was the streets were empty, so no one discovered the princess had been released half an hour earlier. Because everyone was glued to their screens. Because apparently humanity is 97% callous jerks and 3% silent enablers, and no one else would be retraumatized or need to step away???
In reality, I think at least 10% of people would be incapable of being in the same room as a screen showing that broadcast.
If the writers had asked some women, they would have seen that this huge plot hole undoes their whole premise! Any group of women would recognize that a significant number of people are not going to stare mindlessly at a screen portraying non-consensual sex. We would know that, in fact, what would have happened is this…
Amelia Fixes the end of Black Mirror, episode 1, “National Anthem”
An announcement comes over the air that viewers are advised to turn off their TVs, that owning a recording of the broadcast is illegal, that the broadcast will commence after the loud, high tone. Lots of people wait it out and stare, but —
Cut to a single woman, alone in her shabby flat, switches off her screen with shaking hands, and starts to cry.
Cut to a large, posh living room, where a woman is sitting with her husband, her face drained of blood, sweat beading up on her face. She can’t speak — she can barely breathe — but her head twitches in a minute shake as she leans away from the screen. The husband hurriedly smashes the OFF button and puts his arms around his wife, who closes her eyes and breathes deeply as her tension drains little by little.
Cut to the studio, where the broadcast has just begun. The PM is trembling, breathless, frightened. He says, “I’m here to ensure the safety of the princess.” He can’t hold back tears as he reluctantly removes his jacket.
Cut to the PM’s wife standing outside the studio door, being restrained by guards, thrashing and hyperventilating, hissing through her teeth at the PM’s advisers in the hall with her, “Don’t. Don’t make him do this. You can’t.”
Cut to a medical facility, where a teenager in a hospital gown is sobbing with her face in her hands. A group of nurses wheel her away, and we see that they are gathering groups of patients. Several of the nurses are also clearly disturbed, but all of them are business-like, efficient, knowing what needs to be done and just fucking doing it. A crowd of patients waits outside the hospital front doors, hold hands. A doctor with a young boy in her arms starts to sing. “I know it’s hard sometimes/and it’s okay not to be okay…”
On the street, we see that all through the neighborhood, survivors are standing outside in huddled groups, crying and hugging each other. They notice others around them, and bring them into their circle.
Someone notices a very young woman in a green dress stumbling down the street and says, “Are you okay? Do you need help?” And she instantly recognizes it’s the princess. “Call 999!” she cries, guiding the princess to a bench.
Phones ring. Emergency services are contacted. Cut to the PM in the studio, unbuckling his belt with a sob when suddenly his adviser flings the door open. The look on her face tells the PM that the princess is safe, and that he, too, has been saved.
He whimpers and stumbles toward the door. His wife rushes into the room, catches him from falling, and they cling to each other.
The end.
See? He’s rescued by other survivors looking out for each other.
That would have been awesome. And now we have an ending to the story that honors the reality of human experience!
Rory thinks about it and is glad*This isn’t the point of my post, but the whole “is it art” angle is total bullshit. I’m an artist, and claim expertise in art. Yes, sometimes, art is uncomfortable or even painful for an artist and for an audience. I think this show counts as art. It’s not good art, it’s shitty stupid petty trite cheesy manipulative trash full of ego. It’s bad because the purpose of art is to say something true about humanity, and this work misses truth. I think Rory Kinnear’s performance is good art because it is true. But is the kidnapping/rape portrayed in the show art? No. Of course not. It’s not even a debate, like, “I know it when I see it,” or “art is art when an artist calls it art.” No. Consent is part of art. The maker chooses to make it, the audience chooses to see it. It’s not art if anyone is part of it against their will. Then it’s just crime.
**1. Everyone’s worried about the PM’s humiliation, like he’d just been asked to do the chicken dance or eat pudding with his hands.
2. His wife is worried about her honor and dignity, not about his, ya know, bodily autonomy.
3. His wife WATCHES the broadcast! She stares blank-faced b/c apparently she’s a sociopath???
4. Humans are so degenerate we’ll be drawn like magnets to watch non-consensual sex, but not degenerate enough to think “hey, everyone’s inside watching that broadcast; the streets are empty, so this would be a great time to go out and loot some stores!” ???
5. A lot of people will feel uncomfortable, upset, or even disgusted by this episode. But the episode gets all meta and points to the audience: “you just watched this, so you’ve proven that you are the problem we illustrated here!” It blames the viewer for their own discomfort, gaslighting them so they are afraid to turn toward that discomfort, to offer their pain kindness and compassion.
6. There are a lot, but I don’t want think about them anymore. I’m just going to use my version and imagine a world like this one, where survivors are heroes.
