My heart is really heavy.
There was a film that I was assigned to review named Trade, this summer. The film didn’t do well and wasn’t released nationally so I had to wait until it’s DVD release.
Trade was released on DVD this week, and so it was with eagerness that my friend, her husband and I sat down to watch it. Having extensive experience in dealing with survivors of sexual abuse, we expected a movie which would advocate for them. We knew it’s content was of that nature… With sexual abuse being so often swept under a rug because the world, in majority, still cares about their discomfort when dealing with it- I was ready to see a film released to raise awareness…
And this is when the film person in me has to step up and ask: how much is too much?
Scenes of men in bushes with children; a very blatant rape scened shot cold and honestly… I am that Christian who defends the films, at times, for the “offensive” material they carry. When someone complains about “S**t” of “F**K” being in a film that is intense and action packed, I point out that the bad guy wouldn’t seem so bad if suddenly he yelled “Grab your shoot and shut the flippin heck up!”
I can be the overly tolerant one, at times…
The more liberal one…
And yet this movie made me squirm and cringe. A lot. This movie made all three of our hearts ache, and the general consensus was this:
– this was never intended to be the movie that everyone walks away from, saying “i really loved this movie!”
– this movie was made for awareness purposes.
– this movie is gritty and raw, and as horribly painful as it is to watch- it likely doesn’t touch the real surface of what the sex trade industry, it’s workers or it’s victims lives are like…
But again, still, after my review is written and submitted- I have to ask: how much is too much?
In the name of awareness… In the name of an abuse which is still so much a secret… In the name of ruined children, crime, hatred and brutality— how much enactment is too much?
It’s been over 24 hours since I saw this movie, and my regular every day life has moved on. But my heart is still there, watching. Remembering. Aching.