Movie talk: why I walked out of “The Little Hours”

*Trigger Warning: the following content contains explicit language and information regarding sexual assault and/or violence that may be triggering to survivors of physical, mental and/or emotional abuse.*

The better part of the last two years, I have researched sexual assault and studied comedy while earning my M.F.A. in Screenwriting. I always try to give films a chance from start to finish no matter what, but Friday night I walked out of a movie for the first time.

I love comedy. My all-time favorite show is “Parks and Recreation”. So, when I saw that Aubrey Plaza & Nick Offerman were in “The Little Hours”, I immediately purchased a ticket to a showing at the Music Box theater in Chicago. Plaza was going to be in town for a Q&A following the viewing. I get to the theater and find an aisle seat so I could make a fast exit in case of an emergency. Thanks, anxiety. Fortunately, I did not have to crawl over anyone as I walked out after an hour or so into the film.

The scene prior to the one that caused me to leave had some on screen female only kissing. I was ecstatic! The lesbian perspective is one of the many voices lacking in cinema today. My vaginal wetness was quickly crusted over when moments later, those same females sexually assaulted a male character.

I walked out because of the film uses sexual assault for comedic purposes. Not okay. Plaza, who plays Sister Fernanda, walks into a shed with her friend Marta (played by Jemima Kirke). Massetto (played by Dave Franco), the new groundsman/handyman is working in the shed. Franco’s character pretends to be deaf. Marta loudly encourages Sister Fernanda to have sex with Massetto without his consent. The majority of the sold out crowd laughed.

This would have been a wonderful moment for the fake deaf Massetto to speak to the women for the first time. Then, he could give consent and also, the nuns could have used his lie/secret as leverage over him for their own personal benefit in regards to something nonsexual.

Dozens of alternatives could have been used in this ‘comedy’ without using rape for the sake of a joke. The filmmakers missed a huge opportunity to make a statement against sexual assault.

For all the deaf people in this world who have been sexually assaulted, I am sorry that this scene happened.

If two foul-mouthed nuns were trying to sexually attack me, there’s no telling what my body would do (especially if they were physically bigger or stronger than me), but I hope I would slap them at the very least or try to. Yes, I, Ally, someone who grew up and still considers herself a Catholic, would slap a nun under certain circumstances.

Like I said, I walked out of the film. I do not know how the rest of the movie plays out nor do I care.

I don’t know which is worse:

1. The fact that this scene/movie happened or
2. That the majority of a sold out theater laughed at the scene or
3. That this ‘comedy’ is a cast of mostly females, that allowed this scene to be shot or
4. That I attended the viewing by myself.
   I go see movies by myself all the time. I didn’t think I would have needed a friend or someone with me this time. I know I am not alone, but in that moment and the ones that followed, it sure as hell felt like I was.

Did it not occur to any of the cast and crew on even one occasion that this is wrong and not funny? I hate to imagine that someone did speak against the scene, and they still shot it anyway.

For those who are still unclear as to what sexual assault is, here’s a definition from RAINN: “The term sexual assault refers to sexual contact or behavior that occurs without explicit consent of the victim.” Dave Franco’s character did not give consent, despite smiling in the very next scene. It DOES NOT MATTER that in the next scene, Franco’s character smiles. That does not matter because for 1 in 4 women, the scene prior has already triggered their memories of being sexually assaulted.

The females in this film did not do feminists or The Resistance any favors.

Who gives a flying fuck if all or some of the film is inspired by historic events. Need I remind you all that THE CURRENT PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES HAS BEEN ACCUSED OF SEXUAL ASSAULT x AMOUNT OF TIMES? I bet he’d fucking love this movie. Surely, he’d be giving Dave Franco a pat on the dick for hooking up with those nuns. It’s horrific. My stomach is still in knots about the comments POTUS has made regarding him taking advantage of women.

I am aware that the Catholic church has been corrupt since day one. There are endless jokes to be made about Catholicism but not its sexual misconduct. Even if “The Little Hours” is based on The Decameron by Giovanni Boccacio, I am outraged that this was the take the filmmakers went with. Rape is not funny. The film is not an attack on the Catholic church. It’s an attack on sexual assault survivors everywhere, which is much more universal than the Catholic faith.

As a sexual assault advocate and as a woman, I know this is an uphill battle, but I did not think it was THIS bad. Are people just that unaware?

“To have compassion for those who suffer is a human quality which everyone should possess, especially those who have required comfort themselves in the past and have managed to find it in others. ” — Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron

The premiere of “The Little Hours” was poorly timed, too. January 20, 2017: the inauguration of an asshole president. The Women’s March occurred on January 21, 2017 & “The Little Hours” premiered at Sundance during that same week. So, the same week a shit president was inaugurated, a film in which rape is laughed at premiered in the same country. Good job, America.

This is the sign I carried during the Women’s March.

I took it down from my window last week to get ready for my move. It may be faded, but the message is still there. We’re still here.

48 hours and one cigarette later, I was finally able to (somewhat) fully collect myself and my thoughts on my weekend. It was not until today, Monday, when I was able to sit down and put my thoughts in writing. I no longer drink alcohol, so as I left the theater, I went to Jeni’s ice cream (12/10 would recommend Jeni’s; 12/10 would not recommend “The Little Hours”). After I ate my delicious ice cream, I walked back to the theater for the Q&A, thinking there was a chance waiting for me to speak out. After listening for 5 minutes, I left again, still angry and unimpressed.

I try to live fully by the quote: “Do no harm, but take no shit.” I do not want to go around inflicting pain on others nor myself. I was so heated, though, and also by myself that I honestly do not know what would have come out of my mouth. In those moments, I wanted to hit something or someone, so I did not stand up during the Q&A Friday evening because there was the likelihood of me throwing the microphone at someone. So, you’re welcome because I know I can kick a whole lot of ass & have a really sweet throwing arm. In the future, I hope I will be able to stand up and speak out in the moment under any circumstance using my words only. However, I’ll use my fists only if I absolutely have to. Fortunately, I was able to pull myself together and perform in a midnight show at iO theater a few hours later.

The next day, Saturday, I knew I needed to make my kickboxing class at a gym that a good friend of mine recently introduced me to. As luck would have it, I got stuck in traffic and didn’t make the class, which made me even more upset…to put it lightly. To put it not so lightly: I cried on the side of a busy Chicago street, cried on my walk home and cried even harder upon entering my soon to be old apartment. Crying was bound to happen. I needed to let something out. I dried my tears, took a shower and then napped before my Saturday evening rehearsal.

A CALL TO ACTION: HOW SELF-AWARE ARE YOU?

I think I know what most of my weaknesses are, and what works and doesn’t work for me when I’m that angry. I’m still angry, but it is a matter of putting that anger into something useful that is far from self-harm, self-sabotage, whatever. Sunday was a new day. I woke up early. I told myself to step away from my schedule for the day, which included one rehearsal and one music improv class that I so dearly love. Let’s try this again. I rode my bike to kickboxing, barely making it on time. As usual, class was awesome. I rode my bike home, then took another nap. A Sunday afternoon nap. I used to nap on Sundays all the time. When did I stop? Why did I stop? Naps are amazing!

I’ve realized a big part of my own success is found in taking a break just as much as it is found in the day-to-day hustle that I love. Allowing myself to take a step back is essential to the quality and purpose of my work. I realize this, yes. However, putting it to practice and continuing to allow myself that break in the future will be the challenge.

Kickboxing was great, but I knew I needed another form of positively letting go of my frustration. Sunday evening, after an hour or two of packing, I went to a restorative yoga class, where I learned a new type of breathing called Sitali. This type of breath cools the body and soothes emotions. Who knew?!

As humans, I believe we are much more capable than we think we are and/or allow ourselves to be. That is one of the main reasons I get angry when I see women getting engaged and having babies at such a young age. Yes, it’s your life, not mine, but has anyone ever told you that you are more than what society expects of you?

If I did not open my heart and mind to writing about sexual assault, I would never have found an interest in law. It fascinates me. A few years ago, I would have laughed if anyone told me to read a text on law or write a dramatic feature-length script. My new found interest(s) lead to my current full-time day job at a law firm. I was certainly not about to sit down at just any office job. I needed something where I could learn and grow, especially if it meant taking time away from my creative work.

I have to remind myself to embrace new interests instead of fighting them or ignoring them. In case I forget that reminder, I am fortunate to have a few people in my life to remind me that I am not just one thing. I am not just a former collegiate athlete. I am not just a person with a mental illness. I am not just a funny person. I am not just a goddamn pretty face with a hot body. I am more. I am so much more, and so are you.

So…

What are your wants and needs?

Be honest.

Are those really your wants and needs?

Go take a fucking pottery class or try a new hobby that you’ve always wanted. It doesn’t matter your age, either. Leslie Jones will be 50 years old in September, and she is currently slaying the comedy realm.

Missing school? Enroll in one class at your local community college or nearest university. Hell! Enroll in 2!

If you’re tight on money, volunteer at an animal shelter, a hospital, a retirement home. Old people are amazing. I would not have discovered my appreciation for them if it wasn’t for my own grandparents and also my time spent working at an assisted living facility while in college.

Tight on money and time? Go to your local library! Whoa! What a neat idea! Your TV shows will still be there when you are too tired to continue reading.

Put your phone down and go for a walk. Fresh air is fucking mindblowing, you guys!

You don’t need anyone’s permission to explore. If you think you do, here: I’m giving it to you. Go! You have a mind. Wake up and use it. Life is short and there’s a whole lot to learn.

“You must read, you must persevere, you must sit up nights, you must inquire, and exert the utmost power of your mind. If one way does not lead to the desired meaning, take another; if obstacles arise, then still another; until, if your strength holds out, you will find that clear which at first looked dark.” ― Giovanni Boccaccio