I Spit on Your Grave

This has been an odd couple of weeks for remakes. Last week we were treated to a nearly flawless recreation of Swedish vampire hit, Let the Right One In. And now this week it's a slicker, more precisely violent remake of 1978's I Spit on Your Grave, a movie I know some people consider to be the worst flick ever. The original was a putrid, steaming pile of monkey crap with a soft core of feminism baking somewhere in the middle. Not only was it distasteful, but it looked like junk too.

Making a remake of such a hated, vile feature immediately puts it into the "for genre fans only" camp. Those who squeal with delight everytime someone's brains are exploded in any random Saw flick or who think Eli Roth's Hostel films are modern day classics. It comes packaged with an "Unrated" tag just to make sure the most hardcore aren't cheated out of every grisly offering, of which there are plenty. If you've seen the original then you know how it goes.

Jennifer, a sexy novelist looking for an escape to finish up her latest book makes an ill-fated decision to rent out a cabin in a town that should've been named "Deliverance, West Virginia". It's a rundown, eyeblink of a town where everybody's got as many teeth as they do fingers, showers are apparently a luxury, and there doesn't appear to be a woman in sight for two counties. How else to explain when Jennifer rolls up she's instantly the target of four degenerates working at a gas station. The four proceed to stalk her, savagely beat and rape her(in the most uncomfortable of places according to Kevin Smith), all the while tormenting her mentally. Of course it's her fault for being sexy and alone. She was asking for it. She escapes by diving into a lake, and the guys all think she's dead.  They couldn't be more wrong.

Jennifer returns weeks later, cold, heartless, and damaged. Her revenge is calculated and brutal. The method which she uses to dispatch her attackers would make Jigsaw squeamish. It's far worse, far more vicious than in the 1978 film. Whoever thought them up needs to have their head examined. Then examined again to make sure no stray thoughts exist. To put it bluntly, my man parts sunk back into my stomach a couple of times.

A few months ago when the poster was released for this film, I got engaged in more than a few verbal wars with people over the content. It depicted Jennifer, obviously post rape, with her back to us in ripped up clothes holding a knife. Her ass is clearly the focus, smudged with dirt and mud. The most common complaint about it was the same most people have towards the movie itself, that it sexualizes and fetishes rape victims. I still disagree, suggesting that it only highlights the devastating results of such brutality.

Monroe's version is clearly above and beyond the original in nearly every way. In particular he and screenwriter Jeffrey Reddick(Final Destination) make sure to emphasize the lack of sexuality in these assaults. In 1978, Jennifer came back as a vindictive seductress, who turned her attackers' male pride against them before slaughter. Now she's back with one goal in mind: to dominate and humiliate them the way they did her. It's never about sex. Most of the performances are crappy, hillbilly stereotypes, but Sarah Butler as Jennifer makes a captivating figure.

Chances are you already know if this is a flick for you or not. I Spit on Your Grave is an intense, unrelenting experience that fans of the genre will likely have to flock to on DVD.