Oct 07 2008

100 Feet–a real ghost story!

I just saw the movie 100 Feet. It opens mysteriously, but very quickly we realize that Marnie Watson, the protagonist, is an abused wife who has murdered her abusive policeman husband. She’s been convicted of the crime and is being transferred from jail to her home where she’ll serve the remainder of her sentence under house arrest. An ankle bracelet is affixed and she cannot move more than 100 feet from the main signal receiver for more than three minutes or the police will be notified.

Plot spoiler

Don’t read on if you intend to see the movie–I am about to reveal the rest of the plot.

Ghost story or statement about abuse?

What I thought might be a look into the lives of the abused turned out to be a ghost story…but wait…it did turn out to be a poignant look into the lives of the abused, just not in a blatantly obvious way. Marnie is confined to her home, and the ghost of her murdered husband shows up not only to haunt her, but to continue beating her. She reads some books about getting rid of ghosts, and discovers that one of the first things she must do is to get rid of all the dead person’s belongings. She also needs to “ask” or to tell the ghost to leave. She gets rid of his things (discovering a large amount of “dirty money” in the process), but the ghost isn’t impressed–he keeps showing up and continues to terrorize and beat her. She’s having a really hard time asking him to leave though, she’s too scared to do anything but scream each time he shows his violent face (sound familiar?) After each beating, when she’s asked how she got her cuts or bruises, she feebly claims that she fell in one way or another (also sound familiar?) To the never-abused, this makes sense…how could she ever explain that a ghost beat her? She couldn’t even get anyone to believe that her husband beat her when he was alive! We, the abused, realize that it’s more a matter of shame and guilt that keeps us making those excuses. A deep-seated belief that we are being beaten because we deserve it.

At one point, Marnie realizes that she’s still wearing her wedding ring, which is the last material thing that connects the ghost of her murdered husband to her. At the end of the movie, he sets the house on fire and in one last attempt to get rid of him, Marnie removes the ring and throws it at him. He catches it, his ghoulish appearance softens, he looks human, sad and regretful for a moment (the exact look my first husband had on his face when I left him for the first time), then when she doesn’t say anything, he disintegrates and disappears. She escapes through a window and the house explodes into flames. She’s free.

You can still watch the movie…

Now, I haven’t revealed everything to you so if you want to see the movie, you’ll still have a few surprises. The thing is that, as Ray (z”l) used to say, artists can use their art to say what cannot be said. The ghost is a symbol for the repetition syndrome abuse victims often experience. If it’s our father who first abused us, we seem to have a need to have relationships with men who will abuse us in much the same way our father did. Personally, I can’t speak for men who were abused by their mothers–do they have the same type of need? I’m guessing yes. Anyway, I’ve been told that repetition syndrome expresses itself in the need to recreate the abusive relationship so that you can fix it. Of course, it can’t be fixed, it needs to be stayed away from. Well, maybe it could have been fixed with the father, but by the time an abused daughter marries,…I digress.

The ghost represents the manner in which the abusive father seems to keep coming back, and always will until the abused daughter/wife realizes that she has to let go of the past. The woman in 100 Feet loved her husband in the beginning, and loved him in the end. The one thing that enabled her to get rid of him was her eventual realization that this person was a beast, he was not the man she loved. The minute she realized this and removed her wedding ring (i.e., “left” him), she was free.

The House

Ah, the house. Here’s the biggie: The house represents everything we know as our world. It is our security, our known place. It may not be safe or happy, but at least we know what to expect there. It’s predictable. Everything outside of that house is unknown and more frightening than the violence that the abused person has grown used to, maybe even become immune to.

In the movie, the abused wife is locked in her house. Many abused wives feel that way, and some literally are locked in.

Reality

In real life the abuser returns not as a ghost, but as another husband or boyfriend in a succession of abusive husbands or boyfriends (or girlfriends or wives?) In a way, each one is the relentless ghost of the first abuser. The minute we are willing to realize that this person isn’t the person we love, but a violent beast, we can “get rid” of this person by letting go. That letting go might entail the burning down of houses or bridges, but it’s necessary before we can be free. Most of all, we mustn’t be afraid to “remove the ring,” to say “it’s over!” and to physically leave and live alone for a while.

Closure?

The movie closes with Marnie riding a bus to no-one knows where. A man is reading a newspaper whose headline reads, “Cop-killing wife dies in blaze” or something to that affect. In real life, if an abused person really wants to start a new life, that is, a life different from the one s/he just escaped, that person needs help in understanding that it was never their fault, that they can never fix what was, and that they deserve a decent, prosperous life filled with good things (including a loving, kind relationship filled with mutual respect). Most of all, they must learn to live their lives without fear so that they can speak up when wrong is done, and they can say, “NO. No more.”

4 Responses to “100 Feet–a real ghost story!”

  1. Mike Yagoobianon 22 Dec 2008 at 1:13 am

    I really like your interpretation of the movie, good points.

  2. Jayon 23 Dec 2008 at 12:01 am

    This movie was shit.

  3. Donnaon 26 Feb 2010 at 12:12 am

    You’ve described the psychology of the abused perfectly. I should know I’m living it, still.

  4. Joannaon 27 Feb 2010 at 12:37 pm

    Donna, I so hope that you’ll find your way out of it. It is so hard that words cannot even begin to describe.

    But you can. You can.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS

Leave a Reply