“Snuff this book!” “Vile!” “Should not have been published!”

These words of protest greeted the release of Bret Easton Ellis’s initially controversial but now admired novel, American Psycho. The book and subsequent film featured many scenes of brutal violence perpetrated by Patrick Bateman, an egomaniacal psychopath concealed underneath a perfectly polished exterior. Today, however, the film is a beloved cult classic admired for its scathing social critique of the greed-fueled 1980s. The violence in the film, from the blood splattered across Bateman’s teeth to the chainsaw he holds in front of his crotch while chasing one of his imminent victims, is considered artistic. Bateman is so popular that the book has recently been adapted into a Broadway musical.

Is it shocking that source material once considered egregious for its violence has now become musical entertainment? 11andmore considers this question in the context of the wider debate on whether modern audiences, exposed to ever more acts of brutality through a variety of explicit TV shows, movies and video games, are becoming desensitized to violence.

Violence onscreen today: misogyny, humor, so-called “realism,” and anti-heroes

MILA:

I think audiences today wouldn’t blink at violence that would have had people rearing their heads decades ago. However, violence against women has dominated the market more recently and unleashed more negative reactions. Game of Thrones has been criticized for its repeated depictions of sexual violence toward its female characters. And yet, audiences still tune in, despite these events diverging quite far from the source material George R. R. Martin wrote.

Why, if such violence is so horrendous, is the show not only tolerated, but revered by its strong fan base? I think part of the answer is that we have grown more desensitized to sexual, physical, and emotional violence in popular culture.

What has fueled this trend? For one, onscreen violence has become aesthetically pleasing (see Bateman’s “artistic” butchering of his victims in American Psycho). Hollywood is also, as always, vain and superficial; the aesthetics lie not only in the violence itself, but in those committing those very acts. And the actors perpetrating and suffering unimaginable violence in shows like Game of Thrones are certainly attractive enough to make these depictions more titillating than disturbing at times.

JIA JIA:

There’s also the titillation of humor. I think Tarantino has been an important influence here. He introduced the notion of pairing violence with humor to a mainstream audience. Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction pre-date American Psycho while Kill Bill and Django Unchained post-date it.

I also feel that Hollywood and TV have increasingly started fetishizing “realism,” perhaps as a reaction to audiences becoming tired of ‘80s and ‘90s Top Gun-like popcorn blockbuster tropes. This shift has played out across genres. 

Ridley Scott revitalized the Roman epic with Russell Crowe in Gladiator. He’s the first “gritty” hero in the genre—heavy set, laconic and brutally efficient, he’s the antithesis of the chiseled features and eloquent speeches of older heroes portrayed by the likes of Charlton Heston and Kirk Douglas.

The Bourne Trilogy also introduced minimal dialogue and efficient krav maga fighting to the action genre, making Bond look like a ‘50s dandy. And the Bond franchises responded with Daniel Craig’s more brutal 007 in Casino Royale.

MILA:

I think Tarantino’s influence, in addition to pairing violence with humor, also has to do with representing violence as art.

Jia Jia, you make a very interesting point about Russell Crowe in Gladiator. I think his “grittiness” helped jumpstart the shift towards having antiheroes as main characters. Especially in television, the antihero has grown to dominate. Walter White in Breaking Bad is probably the most notable, but there’s also Tony Soprano, Ray Donovan, Dexter, Frank Underwood from House of Cards, etc.

Also, let’s be honest, onscreen violence can be downright entertaining. Video game players thrive off the simulated violence they vicariously experience. The “Saw” movie franchise was so successful because people couldn’t look away from the omnipresent gore that, while disgusting, captivated audiences enough to spawn seven films.

JIA JIA:

I think video games have become increasingly cinematic, focusing on story development in addition to game mechanics, all to increase the sense of realism and hence immersion. Everything from Medal of Honor to Bioshock and Mass Effect features ever more realistic environments. Violence has always been a major game mechanic; where it used to be cartoonish it’s now realistic simply because the in-game environment is more real. Also, synching back with my point about Tarantino, the debut of Grand Theft Auto in 1997 marked the start of the celebration of sin in gaming—killing criminals, killing innocents and raping people.

Finally, this might be a long shot…but I feel that shows like Girls aim to depict relationships in more “real” ways, which means lots of awkward sex. That doesn’t contribute to sexual violence like what we see in Game Of Thrones, but it does form a part of this larger trend of being “real” and therefore showing the so-called “ugly/gritty” side of things.

MILA:

 It’s interesting how Girls has received a lot of criticism for its nudity and sex scenes, when they are in fact real depictions of sex and relationships and how awkward they can be.

I think people are still uncomfortable with violence or other explicit acts they’re not used to seeing on screen, however.

AHALYA:

My take is that modern audiences are not necessarily desensitized to violence but, rather, more savvy and able to understand the underlying message instead of fixating on the gore itself. When American Psycho was first published, it incited huge controversy because people were outraged by the explicit sex and violence and felt they were somehow complicit in those acts by reading the novel. Nowadays though, I think people have realized that the violence is being used as a satirical tool and that the novel is a pitch black, scathing critique of the greedy excesses of ‘80s Wall Street, rather than violent, deranged porn. Interestingly the musical version of American Psycho didn’t perform well, most likely because it couldn’t sustain the sharp social satire of the novel.

Regarding violence on TV, I think while it’s true that extremely violent shows like Game Of Thrones are all the rage and probably attract more interest due to their explicit content, that is not the key to their appeal. Instead, audiences nowadays appreciate a good story and compelling, multi-layered characters first and foremost. If the violence and/or sex helps convey the story and characters’ plights more effectively, then it works, but shows that are gratuitously violent without those other elements tend to flop; e.g., The Following, an overly graphic serial killer show that had flat, stereotypical characters and a story that got tired quickly – it was cancelled after only 2 seasons.

So, I don’t think audiences are necessarily desensitized to or enjoy violence for the sake of it. I think we have just become more culturally aware and critical, especially in this golden age of television, and accept and even appreciate the depiction of violence if it serves a greater purpose. 

The gratuitous, the necessary and the artistic

JOY:

It seems like we often attach a moral justification to the violence. It’s the justification of But This Is The Truth. I’m thinking of Saving Private Ryan, and how it was appallingly violent to European sensibilities, too close-to-home…and yet the American audiences justified it as necessary to show civilians a glimpse into the “true horrors” of war. I was recently talking to an ex-Marine who toured Afghanistan, and he said:

Realistic, gory war films serve to show the idiots who make policy a slice of what the true human cost is of putting “boots on the ground”, of sending drones in to bomb children. We need to show them the blood and the guts and the horror, make them think twice, show them that it’s not glorious or honorable.

It seems like that’s where some of the moral edge of the gritty realism comes from, this impulse to show the privileged moviegoers in their cinema seats the true violence they’re immured from.

But….why? Is there a sense that if they see it in its full bloodiness that they’ll learn their lesson? War will cease and people will hold hands and sing kumbayah? That humanity will become better through seeing this bloody underbelly of what we’re capable of…and…stop? Because that doesn’t seem to be happening. We didn’t become less greedy because we were shocked by American Psycho, even if we “got the message.” We just appreciated the art of it and went on with our lives…maybe having gotten just a little more used to people getting chainsawed on screen.

And then there’s the violence that doesn’t pretend to a moral, that is violent for the sake of the shock value, like Saw, or other horror movies in that vein. Game Of Thrones throws a naked-prostitute-skewering onto screen when that wasn’t necessary for the plot, and really just serves to shock, appall, and (again, troublingly), titillate.

The question, then, is why does this draw, instead of repel, the audiences? Does it make us feel like we’re watching something more hardcore, naughty, adult, serious, artistic? Or are we just fascinated by slashed jugulars the way we’re drawn to watching a train wreck? 

Because it may be the case, as you say, Ahalya, that audiences just filter out the gore as a ubiquitous backdrop, and go straight for the meat of the story and the message. But I’m not entirely convinced of the optimistic interpretation that we’re more culturally aware and critical.

I’m squeamish as shit. I can’t even watch those sitcom-y doctor shows where they operate on people. But violence on screen, even though I dislike it, personally, and find that it detracts from the art for me, doesn’t trouble me in and of itself.

What troubles me most about the ubiquitous violence onscreen is when it has the potential to interact with and reinforce real world violence.

The normalization of the violence against women in Game Of Thrones, for instance, is troubling. So Drogo basically raped Daenerys every night? The implication is: it’s cool, they ended up good about it, rape is no big deal after all.

Have we grown desensitized to “real” violence?

JIA JIA:

 I’m not actually sure that society has become desensitized to violence in real life. If anything, I think that we are more sensitive to it because we feel that it’s among us and hard to predict—from Columbine and Sandy Hook to 9/11 and ISIS. I don’t know if this plays into film and TV depictions of violence.

Perhaps a more violence-aware audience is less likely to buy into material that downplays violence? Perhaps such an audience is more open to extreme violence being shown in humorous ways because that helps us distance ourselves from it?

MILA:

Maybe people haven’t grown less sensitive to violence in real life, but they are less surprised when another shocking incident occurs, like the San Bernardino shootings. I think the greatest feelings of shock arise when the violence occurs in another place that looks like a cosmopolitan U.S city, like Paris, but hasn’t as yet been infected with the abundant violence that has become the norm here.

JOY:

I agree, I don’t think we’re really desensitized to violence in real life either. We are bombarded with so much media, much of it violent, that what really gets to us is hit and miss. For a lot of people, Trayvon Martin’s murder struck them like a punch in the gut. For others, it didn’t. But in real life, I think our reaction to it is largely the same as it always has been. Just because you’ve seen a lot of horror flicks doesn’t change how it impacts you to see someone you know get shot. And I think sometimes we react differently to distant violence if we can connect it to ourselves, and relate it to that real life—the difference in the way most white and black people reacted to Trayvon’s murder, or how someone who has a child of their own might have a different, visceral response to seeing a refugee child dead on the sand.

Is it time for censorship?

MILA:

I am not sure if censure is the solution. In response to people telling her she should have censured American Psycho’s violence even more, Harron, the film’s director, artfully argued:

“If you accept the idea that representing violence is in itself harmful to society, much of the finest cinema would be damned… [If we don’t show] violence…evil… any aspects of human nature that most frighten and distress us… cinema and literature and drama will have to give up on providing a true reflection of society in favor of endless variations on life-affirming Robin Williams movies.”

It’s true – violence is ingrained in our culture, and is an undeniably significant part of our lives. To remove it from television and cinema would be to deny viewers an integral view of part of what happens in the world; it would be to hide something that people need to be aware of.

JOY:

I agree that censoring violence onscreen is probably not the solution. But maybe we need a more nuanced and precise conversation about what the violence is trying to accomplish, and what it actually does accomplish, instead of wrapping it under a blanket of approval or condemnation that obscures the particulars. 

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