Measures of Violence: A problem play, promoted problematically

This post was originally published in January 2020.

Heads up: This post discusses two media images—a promo photo for a play and a political cartoon—which depict sexual violence. In order to discuss the images in conversation with each other, I’ve included them both below.

To whom should I complain? Did I tell this,

Who would believe me?

Isabella, Measure for Measure, Act II, Scene 4

I tried to yell for help. When I did, Brett put his hand over my mouth to stop me from yelling.

Christine Blasey Ford, Hearing of Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanagh, 27 September, 2018

According to a representative from Chesapeake Shakespeare Company (CSC), the marketing image (pictured, top) for their 2020 production of Measure for Measure was not deliberately intended to evoke Bruce MacKinnon’s political cartoon (pictured, bottom) printed in The Halifax Chronicle Herald during the 2018 hearing of Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanagh. For those who still hold the cartoon in their minds, though, and with it the gut-wrenching testimony of Christine Blasey Ford as she described the violence done to her by Brett Kavanagh, the resemblance is striking and disturbing. 

MacKinnon’s cartoon went viral after its publication and provoked a visceral response from many who deemed it insensitive at best and potentially graphic to the point of doing more harm than good to its viewers. With, or even without, MacKinnon’s cartoon in mind, the publicity photo for CSC’s production—which the theatre company is promoting as “Shakespeare’s #MeToo Play”—certainly resonates with audiences in the #MeToo era, but to what effect? And, more crucially, with what damage?

A political cartoon and a publicity image for a theatrical production obviously serve different, but not entirely disparate, functions. Both seek to catch the eye, to call attention, to draw the viewer in. Both may aim to provoke, to affect, and even to disturb the viewer (more on this later). A primary difference is that a cartoon such as the one in The Chronicle Herald exists in and of itself, in its entirety, with all of its message presented at once for consideration and discussion, while the purpose of a marketing piece is to entice the viewer to engage further with the product—in this case, the upcoming production of Measure for Measure. This image should make audiences want to buy tickets and come to see the show, but does the photo of a wide-eyed young woman with a disembodied male hand clamped over her mouth achieve that?

A primary rule of marketing is to know your audience. Looking at the image on the CSC poster, I wonder which audience would respond so positively to it that they would say, “Oh, yes! Intriguing! Let me spend my money and time to explore this further!” 

Let us first consider a broad public audience—those who are not familiar with this theatre company or possibly even with Shakespeare, and who may never have heard of Measure for Measure. Even among Shakespeare aficionados, Measure for Measure is a less popular play; selling this piece to those who do not know it is a challenge. The publicity image must draw enough interest to bring viewers to the company’s website, if not into the theater itself. Using images of violence towards women to sell things is certainly nothing new; the practice has been well-studied and well-documented (Capella et al; Preston, Vance et al). While there is no conclusive research to indicate how effective this is in regard to marketing returns, recent studies suggest that images depicting sex and violence may have a negligible, or even negative, effect on consumer behavior when it comes to actually buying products (Lull and Bushman). Exposure to sexually-violent images in advertising can, however, inform individual and cultural attitudes towards sexuality, sexual assault, and gender, ultimately working to normalize and perpetuate rape culture (Kilbourne). It is disappointing and disconcerting to see this tactic being used to promote a production that is ostensibly anti-sexual-violence. 

When I reached out to CSC to inquire about the poster design, their marketing manager explained, “We wanted something to make the viewer question the scene…take a closer look at the image, decide what is happening, and to let them have a personal emotional response to it, whatever that may be.” The image is arresting, surely, and it grabs attention; seeing it on a marquee or billboard, or in an email inbox, would make people pause, it would probably make many have an emotional response, and yes, it could cause some to question what is happening, and why they are being confronted by this violent picture without context or warning. More critically, though, seeing this image could cause distress to viewers in the same way that MacKinnon’s cartoon did. This picture, like the cartoon, is one of graphic violence, of silencing women, using physical restraint to do so; furthermore, like the cartoon, it represents and evokes the historical and contemporary suppression of women’s voices through systemic, hegemonic patriarchal dominance in public, political, and private spaces. It is a vivid rerpresentation of rape culture, and for that reason, it is potentially retraumatizing for those who have experienced sexual violence.

Perhaps those who are unfamiliar with Shakespeare’s play will recognize the poster’s visual indicators and glean that it has something to do with the #MeToo movement. The problem is that the image of violence here is potentially so unappealing that it undermines any of the poster’s other intentions and messaging. Without context, this stark image of a man’s hand over a terrified woman’s mouth is jarring and off-putting. Especially for survivors of sexual assault, the picture could be upsetting and discourage further engagement– the opposite of what a marketing piece should do. 

Measure for Measure contains depictions of patriarchal violence, male abuse of power, objectification and victimization of women, and sexual predation, phenomena which we know predate our naming them thus. The piece feels particularly resonant in the #MeToo era, and the publicity image for this production makes it abundantly clear that CSC is presenting it as a #MeToo play. The letters “ME” at the beginning of the repeated word “Measure” are highlighted in red, and in the background of the image is a line from the play, “Who will believe thee, Isabel?” (Angelo, II.iv.168). Those who are familiar with the play will likely make the connection, but even so, the image is so on-the-nose, in-your-face, and graphic that it seems excessive and heavy-handed (no pun intended). Would audiences who know the play really respond positively to such an indelicate presentation? It seems to promise an equally ham-handed interpretation of a very challenging piece, especially in light of the current cultural sensitivity surrounding its themes.

It is unclear exactly which audience the poster is meant to attract, but it potentially stands to alienate, and possibly do harm to, those who have experiences with sexual assault.

Even with the best of intentions to combat violence, thrusting images of graphic violence upon viewers, who may not be fortified with proper preparation or understanding, can cause harm.

Now, perhaps some might look at the image on the CSC poster—or even in MacKinnon’s political cartoon—and think, That’s not that bad. It could be so much worse, they might reason, and this isn’t really what they’d consider graphic. Perhaps, in some opinions, it’s not that bad. But isn’t this the same rhetoric we regularly use to silence and gaslight victims of sexual assault and harassment? It was only an attempted rape—not that bad. He only propositioned you, he didn’t even touch you! Not that bad. We have normalized rape culture to the point where some people can probably look at that image and not give it a second conscious thought beyond that intitial attention grab, even if exposure to such visuals may have a subliminal and cumulative effect on viewers’ perceptions (Vance et al, Kilbourne). Even if the intention is ultimately to work against sexual violence, using a sexually violent image as a promotional tool and circulating that image reinforces the perception that violence towards women is commonplace and acceptable.

Western culture has been desensitized to images of sexual violence, and gendered violence, for so long, and this has been exacerbated by the proliferation and consumption of mediated represenations (Projansky). #MeToo has started to resensitize us, and this is a good thing. Feeling the impact of violence is necessary for making cultural change. Yes, we should be disturbed by images of violence. But beyond disturbance, what is the intention of presenting the image? Not only that intention itself, but also how it is framed and communicated, are all crucially important factors when depicting violence. Yes, we are disturbed…so, now what? What is the desired outcome, or the call to action? 

Within the theatre, we often use representations of violence to make sociopolitical statements against that same violence. Using bodies to communicate messages is a component of the performing arts. Theatre makers must be very mindful, though, of how we manipulate and present bodies, most particularly marginalized bodies. When and how is it appropriate to depict acts of sexual violence upon people in marginalized bodies in theatrical spaces? When and how do these depictions lose their efficacy and traverse into the realm of violence upon the audience, and within the cultural environment? 

When does making audiences uncomfortable cross the line into doing real harm? How do we navigate the territory between provoking and damaging? How much collateral damage are we comfortable doing in order to provoke? A key question to ask, when we are staging or presenting sexual violence, is whom is at risk of being harmed by exposure to this content. Do those at risk include people in marginalized groups, such as women, trans and nonbinary people, rape survivors, people of color, queer people, or disabled people? Who stands to benefit from depictions of sexual violence, and in what ways? If the goal is to educate or inform privileged audiences, must this be done through the manipulation and presentation of marginalized bodies? 

There is no singular, comprehensive rulebook for this. These matters are subjective, case by case, show by show, and scene by scene. It is imperative that decisions surrounding representations of sexual violence involve those who understand and are sensitive to the situations being depicted. Within theatrical performances, there is generally time and space to unpack and address all of these questions, and to create and develop a context in which sexual violence might effectively be performed to communicate a progressive, positive, anti-violence message. Theatrical spaces can be used to work through, confront, and incite dialogue surrounding vital sociocultural issues such as patriarchal violence, but all of this takes great care, attention, and willful engagement from artists and audiences. While all of these elements may be present in the staged production of Measure for Measure at CSC, they are not contained in the single image of its promotional poster. There is no opportunity for an audience to engage with, question, or even consent to seeing this imposing image, and for some, the poster may be so off-putting that any possible dialogue ends before it even begins. 

So: To whom should I complain? I explained, briefly and succinctly, to the representative from CSC the main issues I have outlined in this essay. The individual was receptive to my comments, said I’d given them “a lot to think about,” and told me they would bring my concerns to senior staff members at CSC. I am hopeful that some action will be taken to mitigate any further potential damage related to circulation of the publicity image, but several days later, it remains unaltered on the company website and other digital and social media. Still, my hope is that CSC will use this opportunity to engage in meaningful and productive discussion, which I would imagine is one of their goals in producing this or any piece of theatre.

Conversations about rape culture may be difficult, but they are necessary. The arts can be a medium to facilitate this discourse, but we must consider the most effective, and least harmful, ways to invite participants– most especially those who have been personally impacted by sexual violence. Accosting audiences with harrowing, uncontextualized images of assault is simply not the best way to do that. These images may resonate, but what trauma is it that makes them resonate? Do we really want to recall and reinscribe that trauma, all in the name of…what? Of selling a ticket? Or, perhaps with an ostensibly nobler intention of “speaking the truth” via visual messaging? 

The thing of it is: We already know the truth; if we actually listen to survivors of sexual assault, we know that patriarchal violence is real and pervasive. We didn’t need a viral political cartoon to tell us that Christine Blasey Ford’s trauma was and is real, or that our political and justice systems fail women; we don’t need a poster for a Shakespeare play to reinscribe survivors’ collective trauma, and to remind us all again. We need to do better. We need to stop using images of violence towards women as promotional media, especially when our goal is to end the violence.