PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTIONS: *sociological*
Of all the many cinematic takes on the
classic short story “The Most Dangerous Game,” LETHAL WOMAN had
the most potential to provide a novel take on the venerable concept.
I’m not talking about the obvious twist of the script, which makes
man-hunting into a scheme for female empowerment. Rather, I’m
thinking of the movie’s one venture into mythopoeic waters; that of
naming its villainess “Diana,” after the Roman name for the
Goddess of the Hunt.
To be sure, the film’s first third
doesn’t seem like it’s going to delve into matters mythic or, for
that matter, metaphenomenal. In this pair of reviews I noted that the
“human-hunting” scenario doesn’t automatically qualify a given
film for metaphenomenal status; that like many other such tropes,
it’s uncanny or naturalistic depending on the way it’s handled.
LETHAL’s set-up initially seems staunchly naturalistic, as
protagonist Derek Johnson, retired army major, is compelled to return
to active service by his superiors. The army’s become aware that
about twenty of their officers have gone missing, and the only thing
that allows investigators to connect the dots is that all fhe missing
men had some contact with an enterprise on a Caribbean island
(presumably outside the U.S.’s sphere of control). An ad promises
customers an “erotic adventure,” and army intelligence has
tracked down the island as belonging to a former officer, Christine
Newhouse (Merete Van Kamp). The army brass wants Johnson to
masquerade as a customer, to expose whatever’s going on.
As the officers brief Johnson on
Christine, however, the film shifts into her viewpoint, showing the
events of the past in a way that doesn’t exactly flatter the army.
Christine, an army brat from childhood, has shown such formidable
skills in firearms and in unarmed combat-practice that she’s called
to confer with her current superior, Major Maxim. But Maxim hasn’t
summoned Christine to praise her, but to order her to stop showing
off her skills, because they’re bad for the morale of the male
soldiers. When Christine refuses to submit to Maxim’s will, he
resorts to overpowering and raping her in his office. Two
subordinates outside the office hear the commotion but don’t get
involved. When Christine brings charges against the Major, he claims
that the sex was voluntary on her part, and even Christine’s
boyfriend testifies against her so as to avoid being penalized by the
Major. Christine loses her case and leaves the army, justifiably
bitter against all men (though at least one woman is implicated in
the corruption, since Christine’s best female friend reacts by
falling into bed with her traitorous ex-boyfriend).
Thus far, the backstory seems very
naturalistic, particularly in the harrowing rape-scene, which would
not have been out of place in any melodramatic movie-of-the-week. But
since this is a “Most Dangerous Game” riff, Christine somehow
sets up a covert man-hunting operation on the aforementioned island.
How she paid to purchase the island, or recruited to her service a
half-dozen other female victims of rape—the script does not trouble
to ask. Further, since Christine—who has rechristened herself
Diana—is only focused on military men, she and her people have no
particular reason to accept Johnson as an applicant. At the end of
the briefing, an officer says that Johnson was somehow associated
with the trial Christine lost, but his status at the time isn’t
explained, nor does Christine/Diana recognize him when the two meet.
Nevertheless, Johnson’s application for the erotic adventure is
accepted.
Before he arrives, though, the viewer
gets to see Diana’s modus operandi played out. One might’ve
thought that the woman-hating Major Maxim would have been one of
Diana’s first targets, but instead, he’s the last one to get
hunted before Johnson arrives on the island. Obviously, had he been
killed offstage, this would have deprived the film’s audience the
pleasure of seeing the despicable fellow offed on-camera. Initially
Maxim comes to the island, thinking that he’s going to have sex
with all the island-women, who are, inevitably, equally gorgeous.
Instead, they all don archaic hunting-outfits—complete with
non-feminine “war paint”-- and chase Maxim through the woods. The
huntresses all utilize archaic weapons as well: knives, spears, and
crossbows, and it’s at this point that the film forges an
interesting connection between the “Dangerous Game” trope and the
Greek myth of Actaeon. While that venerable Greek hunter wasn’t
precisely guilty of rape, he did, however unwittingly, commit an act
of sexual voyeurism against the goddess Diana, for which offense she
changed him into a hart, who was then destroyed by his own
hunting-gods. The Diana of LETHAL WOMAN takes a more personal tack.
Having wounded Maxim with an arrow, Diana personally grapples with
him, and before killing him blinds him by stabbing his eyes with
barbed earrings. Can you say “displaced sexual symbolism?” Knew
you could.
Now, at this point, viewers are likely
to feel more sympathy with Diana’s Amazons than they ever would’ve
experienced toward Count Zaroff and his close imitators. So, when
Johnson arrives on his mission of investigation (and maybe
assassination), the script has to work hard to make the society of
rape-victims less sympathetic. Diana sets up a demonstration of
martial arts for Johnson’s benefit, and one of the tough girls
beats up on a girl named Tory (Shannon Tweed), whom Johnson already
likes. Johnson’s decent intentions toward Tory may have been
intended to represent normative male-female relations, but the
romance between Johnson and Tory is too bland to offset the intense
melodrama of Christine/Diana’s maltreatment. The writers also
strenuously avoid giving more than incidental characterization to the
other huntresses, probably so that when Johhson has to kill some of
them, the viewers won’t think of him as a Bad Guy.
Inevitably the hunt is on, and though
Johnson takes out some of his pursuers, he ends up falling to his
apparent death, just like the protagonist of the original Condon
story. He survives, sneaking back into Diana’s compound. Here
appears another small twist on the original, for Diana very nearly
kills Johnson, and he’s only saved because Tory, “the good
woman,” stabs Diana with a spear. Here, too, the script gives Diana
the sympathetic edge, for though the spear goes right through her,
she comes close to stabbing Johnson with the very weapon that has
killed her.
The film ends quickly, before anyone
raises the question as to whether Tory’s last-miute change of heart
overturns her earlier participation in twenty murders. There’s no
real question that Diana, the “Lethal Woman” of the title, is the
star of the film. The only interesting aspect of Johnson is that
twice the script remarks on how short he is. For a time I wondered if
this also had a sexual subtext. Now I think it was just the script’s
way of reminding viewers that Diana almost wins her fight with
Johnson partly because he’s not that much bigger than she is.
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