Post by erik on Oct 13, 2017 23:45:03 GMT -5
Quote by David Sumner (Dustin Hoffman) in the climactic and horrifying siege on his English farmhouse in STRAW DOGS:
Of all the mavericks that have ever existed in the realm of film directors, few are as contentious with critics, audiences, and sociologists as Sam Peckinpah was. Up until the early 1970s, he had made five movies, all of them Westerns, including the extremely violent 1969 epic THE WILD BUNCH. And then, in 1971, there was STRAW DOGS. This was the first film of his set in the present-day, as opposed to a rapidly changing West at the turn of the 20th century; it was the first film of his set and filmed outside of North America (shot primarily on location in England's Cornwall region). And, in a lot of ways that only have become recognized more than three decades after his death, it has come to be seen as one of the touchstone horror films of the modern era.
Loosely based on Scottish writer Gordon M. Williams' book The Siege Of Trencher's Farm, STRAW DOGS stars Dustin Hoffman as an American mathematician who is on sabbatical in the Cornwall region, ostensibly to continue his studies in a farmhouse outside the town where his wife (Susan George) grew up, but really to escape the unrest that has engulfed America's college campuses because of the Vietnam War. His basic indifference to anything but his studies is frustrating to George, and it makes him a mocking target of the group of locals, led by Del Henney, that he has hired to fix his farmhouse. But what begins as mere mocking escalates into something more when George's pet cat is found horribly strangled in the closet. George claims that one of the workmen did it, but Hoffman does nothing because he can't prove it. Then these guys invite him out on a duck hunt on a nearby moor. They leave him there.
While this is going on, Henney and another man (Ken Hutchison) enter and proceed to viciously rape George in a ten-minute sequence that is so utterly horrific that it aroused accusations from feminists that Peckinpah was a sexist, a misogynist, and a fascist (while he did have conflicted feelings about women, his politics were always very liberal). George does not tell Hoffman about the rape, fearing that, like before he will do nothing.
When returning home from a church social, Hoffman and George almost run over a mentally incapacitated villager (David Warner); and they take him back to their house. What they don't yet know, however, is that Warner has unwittingly strangled the daughter of the local town drunk (Peter Vaughan); and very soon they are confronted by Vaughan, Henney, and the other workmen. They demand that Hoffman hand Warner over to them. This time, however, understanding what will happen if he does, Hoffman adamantly refuses. The end result is a twenty minute-long siege, punctuated by screams, shotgun blasts, shattering glass, and horrifying violence, as Hoffman turns from passive to aggressive in a few short steps. The coda, in wich Hoffman drives Warner back to town in the fog, is as chillingly ambiguous as the one found in Hitchcock's THE BIRDS.
Even after more than four and a half decades (and a rather mediocre 2011 remake), STRAW DOGS is still a film that stirs debate. Released at roughly the same time as Stanley Kubrick's A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, in late 1971, STRAW DOGS had to have its ultra-controversial rape scene trimmed in order to avoid a dreaded 'X' rating (the scene was restored for DVD release); and it was so horrific that it was illegal for twenty years to even own a copy of the film in England. But by today's standards, it is a fairly measured film in terms of its pace (some would say it is slower than it has to be, though I don't think that's the case). Hoffman's performance, under Peckinpah's typical no-nonsense direction, is very measured; and British actors Vaughan and Henney are extremely menacing. The film is also aided by the underrated Jerry Fielding's haunting, Stravinsky-influenced score and the lowering cinematography of British cameraman John Coquillon, who had already done a number of low-budget British horror films, notably 1968's THE CONQUEROR WORM.
As complex a study as there could possibly be in Hollywood of the dangerous potential of violence in even the most committed pacifists like Hoffman's character, STRAW DOGS, unlike what most critics like to think, does not in any way advocate violence; and it certainly does not condone rape. It only says that there are times when violence can and should be applied, however regrettably. That, as much as anything else, makes it one of the most frightening and disturbing films of any kind ever, especially when it comes to the horror film genre.
This is where I live. This is me. I will not allow violence against this house. No way
Of all the mavericks that have ever existed in the realm of film directors, few are as contentious with critics, audiences, and sociologists as Sam Peckinpah was. Up until the early 1970s, he had made five movies, all of them Westerns, including the extremely violent 1969 epic THE WILD BUNCH. And then, in 1971, there was STRAW DOGS. This was the first film of his set in the present-day, as opposed to a rapidly changing West at the turn of the 20th century; it was the first film of his set and filmed outside of North America (shot primarily on location in England's Cornwall region). And, in a lot of ways that only have become recognized more than three decades after his death, it has come to be seen as one of the touchstone horror films of the modern era.
Loosely based on Scottish writer Gordon M. Williams' book The Siege Of Trencher's Farm, STRAW DOGS stars Dustin Hoffman as an American mathematician who is on sabbatical in the Cornwall region, ostensibly to continue his studies in a farmhouse outside the town where his wife (Susan George) grew up, but really to escape the unrest that has engulfed America's college campuses because of the Vietnam War. His basic indifference to anything but his studies is frustrating to George, and it makes him a mocking target of the group of locals, led by Del Henney, that he has hired to fix his farmhouse. But what begins as mere mocking escalates into something more when George's pet cat is found horribly strangled in the closet. George claims that one of the workmen did it, but Hoffman does nothing because he can't prove it. Then these guys invite him out on a duck hunt on a nearby moor. They leave him there.
While this is going on, Henney and another man (Ken Hutchison) enter and proceed to viciously rape George in a ten-minute sequence that is so utterly horrific that it aroused accusations from feminists that Peckinpah was a sexist, a misogynist, and a fascist (while he did have conflicted feelings about women, his politics were always very liberal). George does not tell Hoffman about the rape, fearing that, like before he will do nothing.
When returning home from a church social, Hoffman and George almost run over a mentally incapacitated villager (David Warner); and they take him back to their house. What they don't yet know, however, is that Warner has unwittingly strangled the daughter of the local town drunk (Peter Vaughan); and very soon they are confronted by Vaughan, Henney, and the other workmen. They demand that Hoffman hand Warner over to them. This time, however, understanding what will happen if he does, Hoffman adamantly refuses. The end result is a twenty minute-long siege, punctuated by screams, shotgun blasts, shattering glass, and horrifying violence, as Hoffman turns from passive to aggressive in a few short steps. The coda, in wich Hoffman drives Warner back to town in the fog, is as chillingly ambiguous as the one found in Hitchcock's THE BIRDS.
Even after more than four and a half decades (and a rather mediocre 2011 remake), STRAW DOGS is still a film that stirs debate. Released at roughly the same time as Stanley Kubrick's A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, in late 1971, STRAW DOGS had to have its ultra-controversial rape scene trimmed in order to avoid a dreaded 'X' rating (the scene was restored for DVD release); and it was so horrific that it was illegal for twenty years to even own a copy of the film in England. But by today's standards, it is a fairly measured film in terms of its pace (some would say it is slower than it has to be, though I don't think that's the case). Hoffman's performance, under Peckinpah's typical no-nonsense direction, is very measured; and British actors Vaughan and Henney are extremely menacing. The film is also aided by the underrated Jerry Fielding's haunting, Stravinsky-influenced score and the lowering cinematography of British cameraman John Coquillon, who had already done a number of low-budget British horror films, notably 1968's THE CONQUEROR WORM.
As complex a study as there could possibly be in Hollywood of the dangerous potential of violence in even the most committed pacifists like Hoffman's character, STRAW DOGS, unlike what most critics like to think, does not in any way advocate violence; and it certainly does not condone rape. It only says that there are times when violence can and should be applied, however regrettably. That, as much as anything else, makes it one of the most frightening and disturbing films of any kind ever, especially when it comes to the horror film genre.
