There is a significant social statement contained within the body of this harrowing tale. Just where does consensual sensuality leave off and blatant assault begin?
The meager stats for court convictions of males in rape cases speaks to the futility of provable evidence to bring about justice. It's one thing for a woman to experience a violation, yet another to prove it to a jury.
With clever defense attorneys twisting facts around to suggest enticement, women face an uphill battle to overcome reasonable doubt.
"Lipstick" dramatizes such a scenario in graphic terms--possibly so much so that its potent social commentary might become blurred. Just as there can be a fine line between consent and assault, so can there be also between legitimate expose and sleazy exploitation.
The cast, headed by Margeaux and Mariel Hemingway, Chris Sarandon and Anne Bancroft, all invest deep emotion into their roles. It's certainly a sobering enterprise, with little in the way of character background, particularly as to the accused. Other than that he creates what some might consider "weird" art, there's nothing to suggest his rationale for physical abuses of not one, but two, sisters.
All we know of him is that he's a respected educator and dance theater professional. Further, casting handsome Sarandon in the role begs the question, "Why do things the hard way?"
By not addressing character background the scriptor left a decided void, suggesting an interest more on surface than substance. Nor does the film's slick title or glossy production design help raise the product's standard.
When originally shown on the large screen in 1976, it apparently was too much for some audiences, and the film gained a poor rep. Viewed today, while it's still a rough enterprise, it does raise awareness as to the painful plight of abused women. In that regard, the film has relevance--for it does indeed affect us all.
The meager stats for court convictions of males in rape cases speaks to the futility of provable evidence to bring about justice. It's one thing for a woman to experience a violation, yet another to prove it to a jury.
With clever defense attorneys twisting facts around to suggest enticement, women face an uphill battle to overcome reasonable doubt.
"Lipstick" dramatizes such a scenario in graphic terms--possibly so much so that its potent social commentary might become blurred. Just as there can be a fine line between consent and assault, so can there be also between legitimate expose and sleazy exploitation.
The cast, headed by Margeaux and Mariel Hemingway, Chris Sarandon and Anne Bancroft, all invest deep emotion into their roles. It's certainly a sobering enterprise, with little in the way of character background, particularly as to the accused. Other than that he creates what some might consider "weird" art, there's nothing to suggest his rationale for physical abuses of not one, but two, sisters.
All we know of him is that he's a respected educator and dance theater professional. Further, casting handsome Sarandon in the role begs the question, "Why do things the hard way?"
By not addressing character background the scriptor left a decided void, suggesting an interest more on surface than substance. Nor does the film's slick title or glossy production design help raise the product's standard.
When originally shown on the large screen in 1976, it apparently was too much for some audiences, and the film gained a poor rep. Viewed today, while it's still a rough enterprise, it does raise awareness as to the painful plight of abused women. In that regard, the film has relevance--for it does indeed affect us all.