Sexual violence | When does complicity begin?

At the beginning, Lucy plays "Would I Lie to You" and doesn't think about her family. Photo: Frederic Batier/Film AG It is estimated that one in five children in Europe is affected by sexual violence. 85 percent of the perpetrators come from the children's immediate environment. People who are close to the perpetrator and have a sneaking suspicion often find themselves in a moral dilemma: if they are wrong, they could destroy the existence of an innocent person.

Looking back, the Austrian director Marie Kreutzer found herself in a similar situation. In 2022, her Habsburg biopic "Corsage" was shown in Canne, was successful in cinemas and even made it onto the Oscar shortlist - when it became known that Burgtheater actor Florian Teichmeister, who plays Sissi's husband in it, had been charged with possession of child pornography. A shitstorm poured over Kreutzer, who only found out about the ad after filming was completed. Ironically, at that time she was already working on “Gentle Monster,” her new film about a woman who is shocked when her husband is accused of possessing and distributing pedophile material.

At the center of her psychodrama is not the pedophile perpetrator, but his wife Lucy, embodied in an impressively nuanced way by Léa Seydoux. Always trying to maintain her composure, her face shows the changing storms of emotions that come over her - a constant flickering between love, repression and emerging horror.

First she moves in with her mother. For a long time she was unable to explain why she moved out.

Lucy is a successful French musician who has just moved to the country with her Austrian filmmaker husband Philip (Laurence Rapp). At the beginning, Lucy improvises on her grand piano to the hit "Would I Lie to You" by Charles & Eddie - tellingly, she questions pop songs by men with different instruments during her performances. On the one hand, most men find it difficult to talk about feelings, but on the other hand, her thoughts about love and romance dominate the charts, she will later say in an interview. “Would I lie to you?” becomes the central question of the film: Lucy loves her husband so much that she clings to any straw in order to close her eyes to suspicion against him.

At the beginning of the film all we see is a loving father setting up a trampoline for his seven-year-old son Johnny and occasionally filming his two loved ones. Then one morning the police show up at the door with a search warrant. Inspector Elsa Kühn – who went against the grain by “Fack-ju-Göhte” actress Jella Haase, who knows how to convince – confiscates Philip’s hard drives.

While Philip seems to know immediately what it's about, conflicting emotions appear on Lucy's face, and she finally hugs her husband, who appears to have been caught - watched skeptically by the inspector in the background. Only when Lucy takes the elevator to the floor assigned to her at the police station and reads “sexualized violence against children” on the sign does it dawn on her. But she only reacts painfully late. First she moves in with her mother, played by Catherine Deneuve. For a long time she was unable to explain why she moved out.

Is their marriage just an ugly lie or was Philip just doing research for a documentary? Or did he just do it for the money so they could afford the house in the country? Is their son in danger? Or has something already been done to him? A psychologist makes it clear to Lucy that this will never be resolved with absolute certainty - a terrible uncertainty that the film never resolves, but rather endures.

Why did Lucy never notice anything herself? Or did she just not want to admit it? Memories come to her late that perhaps should have made her sit up and take notice. Where does complicity begin?

Inspector Elsa should actually ask herself the same question about complicity: While she mercilessly hunts pedophiles, her father, who suffers from dementia, is cared for by a Polish nurse - and behaves disrespectfully and sexually assaultively towards her. When the nurse wants to quit, Elsa offers her more money instead of protecting her.

Judith Kaufmann's camera only observes the women; it is left to the audience to interpret their thoughts and actions. Occasionally their behavior is strange, but it is precisely this trick that makes you reflect more on yourself: How would you behave yourself? When was the last time you laughed with embarrassment at sexist jokes instead of denouncing them? Did you allow your own child to be hugged by his uncle even though he was visibly uncomfortable? At what point would you admit to yourself that you never really knew the person you love? Where does complicity begin? The film asks this relentlessly.

The »nd.Genossenschaft« belongs to its readers and authors. They are the ones who make our journalism accessible to everyone through their contribution: We are not backed by a media company, not a large advertising customer or even a billionaire.

Thanks to the support of our community we can:

→ report independently and critically → shine a light on topics that otherwise remain in the shadows → give space to voices that are often silenced → counter disinformation with facts → strengthen and deepen left-wing perspectives

With “Voluntarily pay” you contribute to the financing of our newspaper in solidarity. So that nd remains.