Exploitation or Empowerment: Sexual Violence in Belladonna of Sadness (1973)
Eiichi Yamamoto’s adult art film Belladonna of Sadness (1973).
Notable for its erotic tone and psychedelic imagery, Eiichi Yamamoto’s adult art film Belladonna of Sadness (1973) interrogates the depiction of sexual violence against its female protagonist. The film, set against the backdrop of feudal France, follows newlywed villager Jeanne after being raped by the town’s baron on her wedding night (see right). Despite Belladonna of Sadness’s sexually explicit content, its intention is not to arouse. Instead, the film suggests a perspective of empowerment for Jeanne through its abstracted visual form and redemptive narrative structure. As I argue in this blog post, Yamamoto’s graphic depiction of sexual violence avoids fully exploiting its female protagonist by portraying Jeanne’s rape as a stylized interpretation rather than a mimetic representation of the crime. Furthermore, the film’s narrative arc crucially situates Jeanne in a position of power, acknowledging that the animated depiction of violence is not equal to its endorsement. The broader sexual imagery in Belladonna of Sadness is undoubtedly controversial; however, within the context of the film, it is presented as justified.
The film’s opening sequence unfolds like the pages of a fairytale: hand-drawn characters, completely static and fixed in time, glide from left to right across the screen as the frame pans horizontally. An optimistic song narrates the exposition, informing the viewer of the recent marriage between Jeanne and Jean. The combination of bright, warm colours and whimsical music during this sequence establishes an idyllic tone. However, this tone is quickly disrupted when the music ceases and the colours become more ominous as the scene transitions to the local baron’s palace, priming the viewer to witness a tragedy. Newlyweds Jeanne and Jean are unable to pay the baron’s marriage tax, and consequently, Jeanne is raped by the baron and his henchmen (Fig. 1).
Fig. 1 - Jeanne and Jean are unable to pay the baron’s marriage tax.
Paradoxically, this rape scene is both graphic and abstract. Against a solid black background, Jeanne’s nude white body is torn in two from between her legs. Bright red blood stains the space between her fragmented body while threatening red bats swarm the screen until Jeanne is obscured from view. The limited colour palette creates a stark contrast, emphasizing the brutality of the scene. In another sequence, Jeanne’s torn body remains still as a red mass that dominates the frame pulses within her torso. Notably, this scene makes it apparent Jeanne is a victim of sexual violence without explicitly depicting the perpetrators committing the abuse, except for three shots between sequences revealing the baron on top of her to confirm the inferred assault. This acutely stylized depiction of Jeanne’s rape serves as an artistic interpretation of her experience rather than a simulated reproduction of violence. By visualizing her attack in an abstract form that predominantly omits her attackers, the film simultaneously illustrates Jeanne’s internal distress and prioritizes her perspective as a victim.
The scene’s success in avoiding the exploitation of its subject is additionally supported by animation as a medium. The abstract nature of the scene afforded by animation emphasizes the emotional impact of the violent crime, allowing the viewer to interpret the surreal elements using their individual experiences. In her article on Japanese hardcore animation, author Mariana Ortega-Brena explains that “Unlike actual bodies, these stylized representations are accurate enough for us to recognize the human marker, unreal enough to fill them with our own corporeal awareness … then placed upon an animated body” (2008, 18). In a live-action format, however, the same scene’s affective significance would likely be compromised for a violent visual spectacle.
Later that night, after Jeanne returns home to Jean, a small spirit appears while her husband sleeps. The spirit says he heard Jeanne’s heart calling to him, claiming she would give anything for him to help her. Over the course of the film, and while the spirit grows in size, Jeanne gradually becomes wealthy and exerts influence over her village. However, Jeanne’s success is at the cost of being raped by the spirit. These scenes of assault are similarly ambiguous, depicting the spirit as an amorphous black cloud or disembodied figure during the acts, allowing the viewer to interpret the visual gaps. In his ordinary state, the spirit is phallic in shape, unsubtly suggesting the sinister nature of his likeness.
As Jeanne’s status within the village continues to elevate, the baron’s wife becomes envious and wishes to have Jeanne executed, suspecting her to be a witch. A local priest advises against this, however, due to the belief that if a witch is burned while her soul belongs to the Devil and her pride is “haughty,” the evil in her spirit “might spread like sparks from a fire to those all around.” As a result, Jeanne is attacked by the village and flees into the woods. In her exile, the spirit appears to her once more and confirms he is Satan. Jeanne at last willingly submits her soul to him, declaring she wants to “become a horrifying woman”. At this point in the narrative, Jeanne’s idea of empowerment is to reject the physical appearance that has been credited as an invitation to abuse. Yet, after the pact is complete, Jeanne is surprised that she has become “even more beautiful than God,” not a grotesque witch as she had desired. Following Jeanne’s contempt with her new physique, Satan counters, “Who says anger and hatred are ugly?” This simple question bears great significance, as it signals a turning point in Jeanne’s character arc. Until now, Jeanne’s physical appearance has consistently been at the disposal of her abusers, and her understanding of redemption is to renounce this beauty. However, this transformation subverts both Jeanne’s and the audience’s expectations, which allows Jeanne to reclaim and weaponize her beauty, placing her in a position of power (Fig. 2).
Fig. 2 - A turning point in Jeanne’s character.
In her divinity, Jeanne’s influence over the village reaches its zenith despite her exile. The baron convinces Jean to retrieve Jeanne and offers her nobility, second in command to only himself. However, Jeanne refuses, declaring she wants to take over the world. Offended by her refusal, the baron sentences Jeanne to execution. As she burns, the villagers’ faces are replaced by that of Jeanne, indicating her spirit has spread to those around her and fulfilling the priest’s earlier warning. In the film’s final moments, the setting advances several centuries. Scrolling text informs the viewer, “On July 14, 1789, at the head of the French Revolution stood… the women.” The final shot is Eugene Delacroix’s famous painting Liberty Leading the People (1830), commemorating Jeanne’s spirit as the basis of French liberation.
Despite her execution, Jeanne’s overall narrative arc demonstrates her redemption. The dissemination of her spirit confirms her pride was intact in defiance of the brutality she suffered. Furthermore, Jeanne’s narrative trajectory is less concerned with seeking revenge on those who harmed her than it is on restoring dignity to her character. Belladonna of Sadness understands the violence depicted against its female protagonist is condemnable, and it invalidates this violence by rendering Jeanne as ultimately triumphant within a historical context. Though the film visualizes sexual assault through its animation, it does not endorse it.
Looking at Japanese animation more broadly, the adult nature of Belladonna of Sadness is certainly not unique. Yamamoto has also directed two other adult animated films with the studio Mushi Production, titled One Thousand and One Nights (1969) and Cleopatra (1971), and together the three films paralleled the shifting cultural dynamics of Japan at the time. In her article discussing Yamamoto’s films, Sheuo Hui Gan argues that “The new attitudes towards sex and sexual imagery that arose in Japan during the late 1960s coincided with the proposal by Nippon Herald, a company specializing in distributing foreign movies in Japan, to have Mushi [Production] produce feature-length animated films for adults” (2007, 68). These films “emphasized the application of comparatively complex narrative structures and dramatic elements to animated films,” as well as “contrasted with the usual expectations that restricted animated films to simplified storylines delivered in a cheerful, straightforward manner” (Gan 2007, 68). However, though Japanese adult animation was gaining commercial popularity at the time, Belladonna of Sadness remains distinct from its contemporaries in its tone and form. Whereas Yamamoto’s other two films utilized “zany humor and parody” (Gan 2007, 81), in Belladonna of Sadness, “The festival atmosphere found in previous works is replaced by a consistent narrative that requires critical interpretation of the situation of women and their sexuality, thereby exceeding the stereotyped understanding of animation” (Gan 2007, 84). Despite the profusion of adult content in Japanese animation prior to its release, Belladonna of Sadness was original in its ability to utilize this content to challenge and critically engage with its audience.
Belladonna of Sadness’s controversial imagery and erotic tone are evidently graphic. However, the film resists the exploitation of its female protagonist by abstracting scenes of sexual violence through stylized animation and situating her in a position of power. These dual approaches prioritize the victim’s experience and reinforce her narrative redemption, offering an account of empowerment rather than defeat. Though Belladonna of Sadness demands an open mind, it rewards its audience, much like it rewards its female protagonist.
**Article published: June 2, 2023**
References
Gan, Sheuo Hui. 2007. “A Reevaluation of the Importance of Mushi Pro’s Three Adult-Oriented Animated Films in the Development of Japanese Animation.” Cinema Studies, no. 2: 63-90, available at: https://www.jstage.jst.go.jp/article/jscsj/2/0/2_63/_pdf.
Ortega-Brena, Mariana. 2008. “Peek-a-boo, I See You: Watching Japanese Hard-core Animation.” Sexuality & Culture, vol. 13, no. 1: 17-31.
Biography
Serena Ramsey is a recent graduate from The University of Texas at Dallas. She received a Bachelor of Arts in Arts, Technology, and Emerging Communication with a concentration in Critical Media Studies. Her writing primarily concerns music, culture, and film. This text was produced for an Animation Studies course under the guidance of Dr. Christine Veras. Earlier versions of the text were developed with the help of Dr. Veras and peers from the course.