JILL THE RIPPER (2000)

 







PHENOMENALITY: *uncanny*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *drama*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *psychological, sociological*


I first saw this film on TV under the lame title TIED UP. However, its original title, JILL RIPS, is even worse, though that was also the title of the film's source-novel. I can endure the alternate title JILL THE RIPPER better than either of these, so that's what I'll go with.

There could be immense psycho-mythic potential in a femme-centric take on the often fictionalized story of Jack the Ripper. In most fictional adaptations, the Ripper kills to express his misogynistic hatred of the female sex, and at least one or two films, such as 1971's HANDS OF THE RIPPER, have centered upon Female Rippers with an animus toward some or all men. I have not read the Frederic Lindsay novel, and there are not many online reviews of it, but what I've seen makes clear that it does focus on an apparent Female Ripper. The movie seems to have gone off in its own tangent, though, for descriptions of the novel mention nothing about BDSM content. Cross-breeding the Ripper legend with the demimonde of the BDSM trade sounds even more promising than just a Female Ripper, and at times director Anthony Hickox seems to be shooting for a Hitchcockian treatment of such transgressive subject matter.

Matt Sorenson (Dolph Lundgren) was forced to resign from the Boston police force after an incident in which he tormented prostitutes by forcing them to walk to the precinct in pouring rain. Implicitly the guy has major issues with the Oldest Profession, which may or may not signal issues with women as a whole. There's no indication that he's had a wife or girlfriend, but he does love his brother Michael, whose body is washed ashore with strong indications of BDSM usage. So Sorenson becomes a vigilante out to uncover the killer's identity, even before other such victims begin showing up. He has some friends on the force that feed him clues about the investigation, but one of the weird things on Sorenson's radar is that shortly before Michael's death he married a woman named Irene (Danielle Brett). In fact, the first time Sorenson sees her, he desires her before knowing that she's his brother's widow.

If you think Irene's just there to be a Love Interest, then you aren't paying attention to Hickox's clear signals that she's Something More. Sorenson, though, moves heaven and earth to infiltrate the BDSM world on the theory that one of the professionals killed Michael. and in keeping with the Lundgren persona he gets into a fair number of head-busting fights. The hero's biggest struggle is with the idea that his brother was involved in this seamy lifestyle, for the fetishes of pain and bondage apparently hold no attraction for Sorenson, not even after he's forced to play the part of a customer and must endure some choice whiplashing.

RIPPER's big problem is that Hickox and company aren't able to side with either Sorenson or the mystery killer, nor chart a path that would show the dramatic conflicts of both parties, the way that other director with the similar last name managed to do. At times Hickox seems to be advocating Sorenson's view that the demimonde is a place of endless corruption, which would align RIPPER with the mythic POV of the average Charles Bronson film. Yet there are also numerous references to female disempowerment at the hands of the old boy's network, so that when the agents of that network manage to rein in the Female Ripper, there's certainly no feeling of cathartic celebration at the monster's demise. So in the end, RIPPER fizzles out in the psycho-myth department, and doesn't come off much better than your average erotic thriller, except for better visuals and a strong performance by the male lead.


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