By Rachel
** Warning: Spoilers and discussion of sexual assault
Now finished its third and final
season, the newest episodes of British crime drama Broadchurch have revealed many things to its viewers that were
never thought possible in previous decades of the genre. Strong-willed female
characters can dominate crime and (no surprises here) still make it great
television. Some offences (not necessarily of the criminal type) are forgivable
and can even change a person’s life for the better. And, perhaps most surprising
of all, Detective Hardy can be found on Tinder.
Amongst the crime and the intrigue,
there is a consistent sense that women are integral to the unravelling plot of
this show. A no-brainer for some – of course women work in law enforcement –
but there is still a persistent domination of the crime genre by male
characters, providing not-so-nuanced perspectives of criminals and their
wrongdoings from a male point of view, even regarding crimes that specifically
affect women. On the other hand, Broadchurch
provides the viewer with an insight into a more diverse police force. This
allows for a subsequently distinct outlook on crime and the people affected by
it.
Detectives Miller and Hardy make
one unstoppable team. (Image Source)
Season Three in particular has
demonstrated a very unique portrayal of sexual assault in only eight episodes. The
season begins with local woman Trish Winterman (Julie Hesmondhalgh) speaking to
Broadchurch police after being raped days earlier at her friend Cath Atwood’s (Sarah Parish) 50th birthday
party. What will surprise viewers is that Trish is in her 40s, and not
particularly representative of the rape victim stereotype reflected in other
crime shows. Trish is mother to a teenage daughter and recently separated from
her husband, Ian (Charlie Higson), also in attendance at the party. It is later
revealed that she has been sleeping with multiple sexual partners following the
separation, including Cath’s husband in a one-off affair on the morning of the
party. A thought-provoking binary – on one hand, Trish has experienced an
undeniably brutal crime and, on the other, has committed an in many ways
unforgivable offense against a friend.
Of course, a brutal rape and a consensual
sexual indiscretion are in no way comparable. Nevertheless, after hearing the
news of the affair, Cath lets her anger get the better of her, incredulously
asking: ‘Of all the women at that party, why would
someone rape you?’ Cath’s
situation is not enviable – she is seemingly stuck in a marriage devoid of love
and intimacy, and has just lost a close friend due to a moment of weakness and
a bad decision. But ultimately, we side with Trish – she makes some terrible
life decisions, as almost every character in the show does. However, none of
her minor wrongdoings are deserving of punishment by a horrifying sexual
assault.
She is portrayed as an everyday
person, trying to survive a slightly messy break-up with her husband, but
having a bit of fun in the meantime – and who can blame her? But the writers of
Broadchurch are in one way testing
the viewer – does our perspective of Trish as a survivor of rape change after we
learn the news of the affair? It shouldn’t, and this is indeed one of the novel
elements of the show.
Trish
revisits the scene of the crime with Detective Miller and Beth Latimer. (Image Source)
Again, this might be a no-brainer –
of course a rape committed by another person has nothing to do with the
victim’s life choices. But past film and media would suggest otherwise. When
Jill Meagher was raped and murdered by Adrian Bayley, a criminal whose past
crimes should have been enough to encourage the public to focus on what he had done wrong, Jill was instead
criticised for walking home at night rather than getting a taxi or accepting a
lift from a friend. Speaking to the press regarding the murder of 17-year-old
Masa Vukotic in almost broad daylight at 7pm (during daylight savings), homicide squad chief Detective Inspector Mick
Hughes suggested
that women walk or run with a companion in parks rather than alone.
Well, maybe we should just lock ourselves up inside (where many of violent
crimes against women occur anyway) and not interact with the public at all? When
men are murdered in public, why is no similar suggestion made?
Alcohol consumption, level of
sexual activity, how one dresses - all are aspects of a rape case that, when
mentioned by the media, suggest the victim intentionally chose to be in a particular
place, in a particular state, with the full knowledge that they would be raped.
(In the now over-quoted film Taken, for
example, it always bothered me that the more sexually willing friend of Bryan
Mills’ daughter who invites the kidnappers inside is raped and drugged to
death, whilst her naïve friend – a virgin – escapes this fate. Perhaps not an
intentional metaphor, but an unwelcome one all the same.)
In Broadchurch, Detectives Ellie Miller (Olivia Coleman) and Alec Hardy
(David Tennant) reiterate over and over again to Trish: ‘This is not your
fault.’ Trish’s one-time affair with Jim Atwood (Mark Bazeley), whilst somewhat
relevant in terms of finding a suspect, is not at any point made an issue in
terms of the reliability of Trish’s story. Miller and Hardy believe Trish, and
they want her to know that.
Meanwhile, Miller is dealing not
only with the personal aftermath of Season Two, in which her husband Joe is acquitted
of murdering Danny Latimer, but with the recent actions of her teenage son. Reeling
from the crimes of his father, Tom (Adam Wilson) is caught at school with pornography
on his phone. Miller is furious – in many ways that you would expect, at one
point smashing his laptop with a hammer when she discovers him with the porn
still on his phone. This reminds us that Miller is exposed to the threat of sex
crimes in a way that her son is not, and seems to connect pornography with the
rape culture still prevalent in their town.
Miller’s aging father comments that
these days everyone’s a victim of rape, reflecting the still unbelievably
strong conviction that intoxicated women cannot be victims of sexual assault. Miller
proceeds to inform her son of how important consent is, no matter what the
situation; she wants to make sure that Tom does not commit the crimes of his
father or the unidentified rapist, and she views his exposure to porn as
relevant to this.
Michael Lucus (left), the
later-revealed rapist, shares pornography with Detective Miller’s son Tom
(right). (Image source)
Whilst no character is perfect, the
writers’ emphasis on the flaws of a large number of the town’s male population
can’t really be denied. In this season especially, we’re introduced to serial
cheater Jim Atwood, stalker Ed Burnett (Lenny Henry),
installer-of-software-on-ex-wife’s-computer-so-he-can-spy-on-her Ian Winterman,
and, finally, the person responsible for the rape – 16-year-old Michael Lucas
(Deon Lee-Williams) who has been ‘groomed’ to assault women by a slightly older
and arguably more despicable man (who many viewers would no doubt consider the
true villain of the story).
And yet, even after seeing the intense
trauma experienced by Trish as a rape survivor and the desperation of Miller
and Hardy to apprehend the person responsible, the final result is a sad, unsatisfying,
one. Rather than feeling outright fury towards the rapist, I felt mixed emotions
of anger, incredulity, and sadness This is because a young, extremely
impressionable man has committed a horrifying, life-changing act. Trish, too,
on hearing the news, appears more shocked than angry, because her rapist is a
boy that her daughter knows from school.
We are reminded that just as rapes
can be committed against anyone, so too can anyone become a rapist. Whether in
cases of alcohol consumption and ‘confusion’ over consent, or of more aggravated
assaults and kidnappings, Broadchurch demonstrates
that rapists are not ‘monsters’ – many, if not most, are what society considers
‘ordinary’ men; the men that we don’t expect to be committers of violent sexual
crimes.
As Tom Meagher, husband of Jill
Meagher, wrote following the conviction of Adrian Bayley, the public and the
media must no longer spread the pervasive ‘monster myth’ of the rapist. The idea that brutal rapists are inhuman monsters, whilst other,
supposedly less serious sexual criminals, such as someone’s husband, boyfriend,
or one-night stand, are just people who ‘make mistakes’ is a dangerous one. Although
Hardy may tell Miller that Leo Humphries (Chris Mason), the man who pressures
Michael to rape Trish, is not like other men, the reality is that the actual
rapist in this situation is a seemingly ordinary teenager, with an undesirable
home life, who is peer-pressured into assaulting a vulnerable woman. And yet,
as ordinary as he is, he is still, and will always be, a rapist. That the
ordinary can also be the despicable is a reality that many of us still need to
come to terms with, and is something that Broadchurch
portrays in a nuanced and confronting way.
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If you are feeling distressed, contact Lifeline
Phone helpline: 13 11 14
Website: www.lifeline.org.au/
--
If you are feeling distressed, contact Lifeline
Phone helpline: 13 11 14
Website: www.lifeline.org.au/