As the world flattens with new technologies to reveal how tragedies we used to only hear about now and then are actually everyday occurrences, we become inured to those horrors as a means to cope. It’s gotten to the point where something as heinous as domestic abuse has become a meme whenever the latest sports championship ends––see social-media posts upon the completion of the UEFA Euro 2024, sharing that many English women were inevitably going to find themselves victims of drunk and angry husbands that night. We read them, nod our heads, and move on.
Whereas increased funding and resources to combat these trends and curb misogyny is surely the best avenue towards finding a permanent solution, we’re too busy using public funds for an over-powered military whenever politicians aren’t cutting those taxes to enrich the wealthy first. So entrepreneurs start to hypothesize what they might be able to do to “help” through private funding instead. Beyond the source of these finances, however, lies differing motivations. Public institutions seek to foster social change. Private institutions seek profit. The former looks to subtract domestic abuse from our lives. The latter attempts to monetize it.
Enter Gilbert (Marc Romeo), a businessman working at the forefront of scientific invention in Scooter McCrae’s long-awaited return to feature filmmaking, Black Eyed Susan. Rather than remove the abuser from the equation, he seeks to remove the victim by introducing a surrogate via a state-of-the-art sex doll. With the latest artificial intelligence and sensorial innovations (realistic secretions, pheromones, and tactility), his “Susan” (Yvonne Emilie Thälker) can take the punishment violent men usually reserve for their significant others. Is it a solution? Maybe in the short term. Definitely for Gilbert’s wallet. Long term, though? It’s simply normalizing assault. And, eventually, the target will shift back.
How do we know this? Because we love nothing more than excuses. When Gilbert finds himself in need of a new “product tester,” he enlists an old friend in Derek (Damian Maffei). A seemingly nice guy doing everything he can to support his separated wife and their daughter, Derek has trepidation at the prospect of being paid to physically and sexually abuse a robot that’s been created to approximate a woman. He should. It’s a wild concept to wrap your head around––one that you’d assume could only be condoned if you yourself harbor such tendencies. And Derek does, despite trying to soften their edges. “I never hit her intentionally. I was drunk.”
Not only does the prospect of a “Susan” give men like Derek an outlet to never need forgiveness––it also provides them the circumstances wherein self-control of any definition becomes unnecessary. Drink all you want. Do whatever you want. There are no consequences beyond the limits of your own conscience. And if the doll asks to be hit––if it craves that pain to feign arousal and in turn arouse you––is there any harm in crossing lines that no longer exist? These are the questions to which Gilbert seeks answers. How far is too far for the stability of the unit? How lifelike is the learning AI? What happens if “Susan” suddenly asks her owner to stop?
McCrae is pushing boundaries with Black Eyed Susan. He’s forcing us to confront the limitations of our humanity through the unlimited potential of invention. Because we need those lines. We need boundaries in order to survive. And the more we try to move or erase them, the more we’ll attempt to justify how the evil within us isn’t in need of curbing at all. It’s one thing to substitute a pillow for punching or a “rage room” for letting off aggression. It’s another to violate a device made to look like the thing you are not supposed to harm. “Susan” isn’t made for roleplay fantasy. She’s made for reality. She’s made to be raped and brutalized. She’s made to satisfy.
And if we’re going to allow rapists and domestic abusers their satisfaction, why not serial killers and pedophiles? You aren’t serving the community anymore––if you ever were. You’re serving the criminals. That’s why it’s crucial for McCrae to get both Derek and “Susan” correct here. She must be willing to embrace destruction and he must look within to make the choice to comply. Thälker is toeing the line between giving Derek what he wants and provoking him further. Maffei is caught between the violent anger of his circumstances and the morality he knows he must maintain if he ever hopes to go back home.
In the end, it comes down to that sense of futility we all feel in a world rapidly descending into depravity and genocide. “Why bother caring if I don’t have the power to actually change anything?” Because you do. Maybe not in the grand scheme of things––at least not yet. Do it for yourself. Bad people are going to do bad things in bad faith regardless of your participation. That doesn’t mean you should sacrifice your own ethics and join them. Be August Landmesser, the assumed German refusing to salute in that famous 1936 photograph of Nazis. Sometimes our integrity is the only weapon we have.
Black Eyed Susan had its world premiere at the 2024 Fantasia International Film Festival.