“IF
YOU CAN’T SAY IT, JUST SEE IT”
By
Raymond Benson
When
Ken Russell’s film, Whore, was released in 1991, many contemporary
reviews stated that it was the flip side of the coin of the Julia
Roberts/Richard Gere vehicle, Pretty Woman (1990). Where Pretty Woman
depicted the life of a prostitute as a rom-com in which everything turns
out rosy, Whore is more of a docu-drama that illustrates the horrors and
ugliness of “the life.”
Starring
the extremely talented Theresa Russell (no relation to the director), the film
may have held good intentions in that the filmmaker wanted to show us “what it’s
really like” to be a woman of the night. What we get, however, is an unsavory,
sordid tale of a not-so-bright woman who is abused and exploited. Rosy it is
not. In fact, it might be one of the more unpleasant cinematic experiences you’ll
have.
Liz
(Russell) is a street walker who has had a hard life. Hailing from a small
town, she marries an abusive alcoholic, has a child, and eventually realizes
she has to walk away. The son goes into foster care. Almost by accident, Liz comes
to understand that men will pay her for sex. Blake (Benjamin Mouton), a
well-dressed “businessman,” becomes her pimp and transports her to Los Angeles.
Blake, however, is also abusive and controlling. Liz attempts to get away from
him several times, only to end up back under his “protection” again. The story
follows Liz on some of her encounters with creepy johns, violence, drugs,
street people, and the law. All the while, Liz speaks to us, the audience,
breaking the fourth wall, justifying and excusing her life choices.
The
movie doesn’t work. First of all, if we can’t at least empathize with the
protagonist in some way, there’s nothing for an audience to hang on to. Theresa
Russell has delivered some excellent performances in her career, but Whore is
not one of them. Her lower class Liz, complete with a country twang, is
practically a parody. And, as Liz isn’t really one of those stereotypical and
unrealistic “hookers with hearts of gold” that Hollywood has thrust upon us
over the decades, the character, no matter how much sassiness Russell gives
her, is difficult to like.
Secondly,
there isn’t much of a story here. Yes, it’s a documentary-like look at the life
of a street walker, but there is never much of a character arc in terms of the
journey. The movie is basically “it is what it is” and is finally unsatisfying.
Finally,
Ken “over-the-top” Russell shoots the scenes of sex and violence with visceral
intensity. This is truly nasty stuff. That said, there is no question that the
film has its admirers and is indeed yet another cult movie title in Russell’s oeuvre.
The
film was based on a stage play, Bondage, by David Hines, and the
screenplay was by (Ken) Russell and Deborah Dalton. Liz’s monologues to the
camera are likely the work of Dalton.
More
interesting is the film’s home video release history. The theatrical release
received an NC-17 rating in the U.S. and was banned in some countries,
including Ireland. The VHS home video release appeared in no less than four
versions: the NC-17 edition, an R-rated version with edits, an unrated version
with more graphic content unseen in the NC-17 version, and a different R-rated
edition for display in family-friendly video stores like Blockbuster,
conveniently and hilariously re-titled as If You Can’t Say It, Just See It!
The
Kino Cult Blu-ray sports the theatrical NC-17 version in a digital restoration
that looks quite good. There is an interesting audio commentary (better than
the film) by novelist and critic Tim Lucas. Other supplements include an
interview with co-writer Dalton, a video comparison of the alternate versions by
Tim Lucas, and the theatrical trailer.
Not
for kids, obviously. Not for many adults, either. But fans of Ken Russell,
Theresa Russell, and cult movies in general may get something out of it.
Click here to order from Amazon
