Director: Steven R Monroe
Writers: Meir Zarchi and Stuart Morse
This film was never going to be as good as the original, but there were enough questions around it to make it a must-see for me – whether it would be toned down or made nastier, would the rape scene be played down to concentrate on fun splatter in the revenge scenes, will it be updated to introduce contemporary mores on sexual violence. In a way I was looking at it as a barometer, a way to compare today's attitudes with those of the seventies. If that's the case things are looking pretty bleak.
After an extremely harrowing and graphic rape scene that includes the forced fellating of a gun, there is a point where the remake of I Spit On Your Grave could have achieved greatness. A local policeman answers Jennifer Hill's pleas for help, but on finding wine on her table and joints in her ashtray starts questioning her integrity. If he'd left here, leaving Jennifer no choice but to take matters into her own hands, this could have been a brilliant film. What better – and more simple – a way to update I Spit On Your Grave's central ideas? But instead it turns out the policeman is part of the gang, and he subjects her to an unwatchable act of forced sodomy.
Everything is much more explicit in the remake, it being quite clear precisely what act of forced sex is being performed when, unnecessary detail that is not only distasteful but clouds the straightforward simplicity of the original. This is followed by gory revenge scenes that stretch the boundaries of the imagination, ingenious and graphic, which despite being pretty much the nastiest I've seen on the big screen yet are light relief compared with the sexual violence of the first half.
This is what the remake of I Spit On Your Grave is about, setting a scene so appalling that you'll cheer the most horrific violence as the victim gets her revenge. It's pure entertainment, and lacks the serious heart of the original. Using rape to drive an irreverent piece of cinematic fluff is in very bad taste indeed.