You might not know who Paul Verhoeven is, but you definitely know some of the films directed by him (Basic Instinct, Total Recall, etc.). Similarly, you might not know who Isabelle Huppert is, but she is a woman belonging to a group of French actresses (along with others like Marion Cotillard, Lea Seydoux, Juliette Binoche) who have transitioned well into Hollywood and are carving out a place in the American movie industry for the French actress.
Together these Verhoeven and Huppert have come together to produce what is, if it gets a wider audience, is sure to be a controversial and divisive film. Apparently, the difficulties of getting such a violent film made in Boston was one of the reasons why the director decided to make the movie in France, in French and with French actors.

The film begins with Michele (Huppert), a successful and wealthy businesswoman on the floor of her house, her blouse pulled down, the doors open, and her pet cat benignly watching over her. The atmosphere seems almost mundane, but Michele has just been raped by a masked intruder. It is a sordid reminder that under the mundane and the everyday things in life, there is still the dark and twisted existence of everything that scares and hurts us. In fact, this perception of normality and the way it is used to mask the more troubling aspects of Michele’s life is one of the recurring themes in the film.

The rape is the most obvious example, but Michele ploughing through her existence and refusing to acknowledge her father, an imprisoned mass murderer, and Michele’s ability to lie and be hurtful to those around her while maintaining a façade of normalcy and upright standing in her professional and public life are ways in which normality in the film is used not only as a guise for the rape and the rapist, but also for Michele and her own faults and failings and her own actions that have hurt other people.

While it can be agreed that the rape is a burst of horror and pain in Michele’s world of normalness, then perhaps it is equally arguable that Michele’s actions (such as her sleeping with her best friend’s husband or the way she insults her own mother) are bursts of pain and horror in the lives of those people.

Therefore, it seems possible to contend that the film concerns itself not so much about rape, but about secrecy and lies and the way these two things manifest themselves in violent or abusive outbursts. If the rapist, whose identity is uncovered later in the film, had been open about his issues (in the sense of seeking psychiatric help or talking to someone), instead of keeping his desires to himself, might Michele’s rape not have been prevented?

If Michele had been more open about her own pain and wants with the people around her, would she not have ended up hurting everyone less? Is Michele, therefore, being compared, in some manner (almost perverse, definitely salacious) to the rapist? It would seem so, especially in the numerous ways in which Verhoeven and the screenplay depicts Michele’s relationship with the rapist.

The film calls for deep thinking and it challenges a lot of conventional ideas about theories and movements that have been established already. Huppert herself considers the film to be “post-feminist.” However, it is important to not be daunted by the Indie-nature of the production, because overall the film is a tense thriller. As we watch Michele follow the red herrings and tries to figure out which one of several men in her life the rapist could be, we never lose interest in the story. Many compliments must be given to Isabelle Huppert who carries the film powerfully from start to finish.

She gives a strong and, yet delicately nuanced, performance. The film has been selected as France’s official selection for the Academy Awards next year. When the list of Best Actress nominees is announced, Huppert would be most deserving if she wins a spot among the five.