“Any other comments on the script? On your particular roles?”

Daniela, the film’s writer and director, glanced around the table, pausing briefly to look at each of the actors. The first read-through, together with the cast’s comments, had taken all morning. No one spoke.

“All right, we all know that we need to talk about the final scene,” Daniela looked at Sylvia, the actress portraying the lead role of Kathryn. “Are you sure you’re OK with the final scene? If you’re not comfortable with it, we can re-write it again.” It wasn’t actually the very final scene, but everyone knew the lengthy scene to which Daniela referred.

Sylvia stared back at Daniela. “Daniela, you created Kathryn as a flawed, sometimes foolhardy, but very strong character. I love her. Which is why I took the role. Yes, I have a major problem with the final scene. But it can be fixed in re-write. And when it is fixed, the film will be unforgettable.”

“When I wrote the scene, I expected to cast as Kathryn an unknown actress who would want the role enough to agree to play the scene as written. I understand that you are not in that category.”

Everyone around the table laughed. Sylvia was as far from an unknown actress as there could be. She had burst on the film scene three years earlier in a major action/adventure franchise and had worked steadily in wide release films since. Daniela had been stunned when her agent told her that Sylvia was interested in playing Kathryn.

“Sylvia,” Daniela’s first assistant, Max, joined the conversation. “I promise that the actors and everyone else involved in the final scene will know your exact limits and will not overstep them. And I know that Daniela will limit the nudity in the final cut and give you final approval over what appears on screen in that scene. And I will close the set when we shoot it.

"You are both wrong,” Sylvia took a deep breath as if gathering her thoughts. She was in her late 20s with blonde hair and blue eyes. Her beautiful face and body, including her large breasts that required no enhancement had contributed to her rise in the industry. Yet now, already a major star, Sylvia was making a very daring career choice to act in Daniela’s film, not only because of the film’s subject matter, but also because, with its modest budget, Sylvia was the only “name” actor in its entire cast, so all publicity for it would focus on her. Daniela was unsure why Sylvia was doing it, but, since it was to Daniela's immense benefit, she asked no questions.

“For three years Kathryn has aided the French Resistance," Sylvia explained why she thought Daniela's final scene needed improvement. "Her work has caused the Germans incalculable harm. Early in 1945, with the war already lost and just months before its end, the SS has finally captured her and brought her to its interrogation center for questioning.”

“Yes,” Daniela nodded. “She is shown throughout the first two hours of the film to be brave, resourceful and very intelligent, escaping all of the traps that the Germans set to capture her. The audience will strongly identify with her, and, when she is finally captured, they will expect her rescue or escape, right up until the last minute. That will make the reality of her situation all the more effective and moving.”

“That is why it is such a great script and a great part.” Sylvia leaned forward. “Schindler isn’t the same film if he survives. But, Daniela,” Sylvia’s eyes darted around the room before returning to Daniela. “How do you think the SS would have treated her after her capture?”

“Very brutally. This is why I have them take her immediately to their dungeon under SS headquarters to be interrogated.” Daniela did not see how anyone could argue this. But she also knew that leading actresses had to think about their entire careers, not just the integrity of a single scene in a low-budget “art” movie.

“So Kathryn is totally stripped?” Sylvia asked Daniela, although both knew the answer.

“She is given the choice of removing her clothes herself or having the soldiers strip her. She chooses to take off her clothes herself. I thought that more consistent with her strong character. It reflects her desire to be in control, at least symbolically, to the extent possible even in a situation where she really has no control at all.”

“I agree that she would. Is she allowed to leave on her panties?”

“If we seek an MPAA rating, and we haven’t yet decided if we will, we want to be able to get an R rating.”

“The film Munich showed full frontal female nudity and still got an R rating.”

“I didn’t think that you would be willing to do the scene with full frontal nudity. In my first draft I wrote it with full nudity.”

“Which way is more realistic?” Sylvia asked.

“Full frontal. All captured spies, male and female, would be totally stripped to add to their feeling of vulnerability and helplessness, which helps break down their resistance.”

“Then that is how we will do it. What torture devices do the soldiers use on her during her interrogation?”

“She is flogged with a bullwhip while chained spread-eagled. Then she is stretched on the rack.”

“How many lashes is she given before she is put on the rack?”

“Six across her bare back.”

“Do you think that is realistic?”

“I think that, in reality, she would be given more. But we can suggest that she has in the way that we cut the scene.”

“And is she shown receiving any lashes across her naked breasts? Or will that only be suggested? And what tortures does she receive while on the rack?”

“The rack itself is torture. It is difficult to breathe while stretched taut on it. She is also given electroshock while on the rack.”

“Where?”

“To her breasts.” Daniela expected that this answer would satisfy Sylvia in view of her previous questions. But apparently it did not.

“What about to her genitals as well?" Sylvia now asked. "Wouldn't that be more realistic? And do you think that she would be raped while stretched on the rack?”

Daniela was beginning to understand. Far from finding the scene too intense, Sylvia believed it unrealistically mild. Not in any absolute sense. But relative to what Kathryn would likely have faced from her interrogators. Incredibly, Sylvia obviously wanted Daniela to rewrite the scene to make it far more brutal, and to include sexual violation as well, in order to depict what Sylvia believed would have happened to Kathryn.

“I agreed to do this role because I believed that the final film would accurately portray the fate of this very brave young woman. To give that fate less intensity than she actually would have suffered is to give Kathryn less credit than she deserves for her strength and for her knowledge of the dangers of her work. It simply sells her short not to show the full extent of the suffering she would have undergone for her country.”

Daniela slowly nodded. The power of her film, the controversy it would create and the risk that Sylvia would be taking for its artistic integrity had all just risen dramatically, now not just from Sylvia's agreement to perform the lead role, but even further from her the greater extremes that she was insisting it include.

And Sylvia was not yet finished in her suggestions for more realism. “Two more requests when you rewrite the scene," Sylvia gave Daniela a wry smile. “First, the SS interrogators would have many soldiers viewing the interrogation, so there should be more soldiers in the room during it, so I do not want the set closed when the scene is filmed. I want at least a dozen soldiers in the room. Second, I want the make-up artists to hide all of the blood packets and other marks they will need to put on my body before we begin the scene. No breaks to add them. That would break my character and I seriously will need to get into the proper frame of mind and not be removed from it unless absolutely necessary, even between cuts. I certainly hope, for my mental health that we can film the scene in one take.”

"Understood,” Daniela marveled. She had no idea that Sylvia was not just a beautiful movie star but also a consummate actress and professional. Which was the side of her that Sylvia wanted to show the rest of the world by taking the role of Kathryn after so many shallow "movie star" roles that required no difficult acting, but instead simply showcased her physical beauty. Of course, in so doing, Sylvia would be showing not just a new side of her, but literally all of her. Daniela knew that the scene had to be shot in one take not just for Sylvia’s mental health, but, more importantly, because, once Kathryn’s body was marked during the scene, there could be no second take.

“If there is anything else that will make the scene more realistic, let's talk about it. With one caveat,” Sylvia laughed. “To the extent that the tortures will actually leave marks on my body, I need them all to heal completely within a week. I am scheduled to start shooting a romantic comedy in a month, and whip marks would really change the audience’s view of my relationship with my leading man!!”

Chapter 2

The cold windowless basement room could only be described as a medieval dungeon. Dimly lit, with stone walls and a stone floor. Chains were hooked to rings in the ceiling and in the floor, their other ends attached to metal cuffs. A wooden rack occupied the far end of the room. A variety of whips hung on the near wall. In the back, a table held an assortment of metal clamps, pincers, knives and other devices whose sole purpose was to inflict pain on the person on whom they were used. At the corner of the table was a small generator. Next to the table, hot coals and irons were inserted into a brazier that glowed red. Kathryn had heard rumors about this place. Now she knew that they were not rumors at all.

Kathryn stood in the center of the room, with a dozen soldiers standing in a circle around her. One soldier was seated. On the chair next to him were Kathryn's dress, belt and stockings. Under the chair were her shoes. She was wearing only her bra and panties, and a slip.

“Continue undressing,” a voice behind her commanded. Kathryn took a deep breath, and, with the soldiers all leering at her in anticipation, slowly pulled down her slip, stepped out of it, and tossed it to the seated soldier. Then she reached both arms behind her and unclasped her bra, slid out of its shoulder straps, and tossed it onto the chair holding her other clothes. She instinctively covered her breasts, but then forced herself to drop her arms to her sides as a sign of strength. She heard the men whisper to each other, no doubt in admiration of their size and shape.

Trying to show strength, and knowing what the next command would be, she did not wait for it, but pulled down her panties and kicked them to the seated soldier, revealing a small dark triangle between her legs. She moved her feet shoulder width apart and clasped her hands behind her neck in the standard position she knew captives were ordered to take. Despite her efforts, her stomach quivered and her nipples hardened, revealing her fear to all of the soldiers in the room.

A soldier walked out of the group and grabbed the sides of her mouth. “Open it.” She obeyed and he examined inside to make certain she was not concealing a cyanide capsule or anything else. Then he reached down between her legs. She grimaced and grit her teeth as he probed insider her with his fingers. Then he pulled a plastic glove out of his pocket, put it on his right hand, and order her to touch her toes without bending her knees. Kathryn assumed this humiliating pose as the soldier now probed her anus. When he finished, she slowly stood back up and resumed her previous pose.

“She is hiding nothing.” The soldier removed the plastic glove and walked away.

"What is your name?” It was the same voice that had ordered her to strip. No doubt the senior SS officer. She turned and could now see him as he stepped forward. A Colonel. Apparently, her interrogation rated the presence of a top officer. That was not a good sign for her.

“Kathryn LaMaigne.” Her voice shook.

“That translates to Kathryn the Great, doesn’t it?” one of the other soldiers joked. “And I’ll bet you will be great when we get inside you." The others laughed.

“How long have you worked for the French Resistance?” The Colonel continued.

“Three years.” She had been captured red-handed trying to smuggle a code book out of Paris. Even worse, she had been wearing a red wig for disguise, as the SS had been circulating her photo to all German military units for several years. So she saw no point in denying the charge against her. They had been looking for her for that long.

“Where were you taking the code book?”

Kathryn looked around the room and saw all eyes leering up and down her body. She summoned her courage. “I forget.”

She could not see the signal from the Colonel, but soon she felt two of the soldiers grab her wrists and attach them to two cuffs hanging from chains from the ceiling. The same two soldiers then secured her ankles to the cuffs held by chains hooked to the floor, forcing her body into an X shape, her arms stretched high and her toes struggling to touch the floor.

As they stepped away, another soldier approached, holding a bullwhip.

“You need to learn how to control your smart mouth,” the Colonel advised her.

Immediately the soldier raised the whip and brought it down hard across Kathryn’s back. She screamed and continued to scream as the soldier lashed the whip across her back over and over, finally pausing after ten strokes. Red stripes crossed her back, and blood trickled from several of them.

The soldier moved in front of Kathryn. He allowed her to regain her breath before lashing the whip directly across her breasts. Kathryn yelped in pain. Her body leaped forward as far as the chains holding her cuffed limbs allowed. A second lash directly across her breasts followed, after which the soldier began methodically working his way down her body, landing multiple blows across her stomach, hips and thighs. When Kathryn's head slumped to her chest, the Colonel held up his hand.

The soldier retreated as the Colonel approached his chained, naked and spread-eagled captive. He examined the stripes across the front of her body. As with her back, blood trickled from several of the welts left by the whip. He grabbed her hair and raised her head to force her to look into his eyes.

“Where were you taking the code book? And if you again tell me that you forgot, I will give each soldier in this room the choice of fucking you, sodomizing you or sticking his prick as far down your throat as he can."

"To a house … about three miles outside the city,” Kathryn struggled to answer the question.

“Where exactly is this house?”

“I … can’t remember. I wrote the address on a slip of paper in code. That is why I said that I'd forgotten the first time.”

The Colonel turned to the seated soldier, who examined her clothes -- her dress, bra, panties, slip, stockings and belt. He checked for any hidden pockets or any paper sewn into them -- but found nothing.

“You will never learn, will you?” The Colonel dropped Kathryn’s head and signaled to his men before moving back to join the other soldiers.

Daniela jumped up from her director’s chair, which was just out of Sylvia’s view. Without a word, she brought her hand across her throat, signaling “cut.” All could see her signal except Sylvia. According to their understanding, Sylvia was to remain in character while the crew set up the lighting for the next part of the scene. The soldiers in Kathryn’s line of sight were also to remain in character. Kathryn raised her head to look at them and they looked back at her. She was unaware that the cameras had stopped rolling.

Daniela was thrilled with the way the whipping portion of the scene had gone. She knew it would look completely realistic on the screen and that she would not need to do much editing. She obviously had saved filming the torture scene until the end. Knowing that it was coming had helped Sylvia convey in the rest of the film the underlying fear of capture that Kathryn felt each day as she worked for the Resistance.

The red stripes across Kathryn’s body were real, and she certainly had felt considerable pain when they were delivered, but most of the whip blows had struck gauze, hidden with flesh toner. The gauze not only provided her with some protection but also contained the packets of blood that burst when they were struck. Of course, Sylvia had insisted on using only a very thin layer of gauze, as she wanted to alter her body's shapely proportions as little as possible, especially around the waist that she had worked so hard to tone. Not that any film viewer ever would think that she had anything but a magnificent body. Nor would any film viewer likely be concentrating on the exact size of her waist during her interrogation and torture.

Daniela knew that the lash marks would fully heal before Sylvia began shooting in a month – although possibly not within the agreed-upon week. For that Daniela could blame Sylvia for refusing the full precaution of the thicker gauze that Daniela had planned to use but Sylvia had rejected.

Sylvia – or rather Kathryn – was still hanging naked from her chains. With her toes barely able to reach the floor, Daniela knew Sylvia’s shoulders must be aching tremendously. But wanting the scene to be as real as possible, Sylvia had insisted that she be left restrained even during breaks in the torture scene.

Chapter 3

When the crew had arranged the lights and camera for the next part of the scene, the rack portion, Daniela gave her silent nod for “action.”

The two soldiers who had chained Kathryn released her wrists and ankles and dragged her to the rack in another part of the room. It was a classic horizontal rack with a winch at the top around which was wrapped a chain that ended in a metal bar with cuffs on each end. The two soldiers put Kathryn onto the rack on her back. In the dim light of the dungeon, it was difficult to see the stripes across the front of her body, but Daniela had no doubt that Sylvia still felt them. The soldiers secured her wrists to the ends of the metal bar and her ankles to the wooden stock at the base of the rack. One of the soldiers turned the handle of the winch, drawing in the chain holding her wrists and stretching her naked body taut.

The Colonel walked up to the middle of the rack. He ran his hands across Kathryn's stomach and breasts. “It would be a shame to ruin such a beautiful body, wouldn't it?”

Kathryn’s breathing was shallow. The Colonel nodded and the soldier turned the handle two more clicks. Kathryn gasped loudly as she was forced to arch her back to relieve some of the pressure to her shoulders, wrists and ankles.

The Colonel moved to stand by her face. “Now, the question was: Where is the house? Or where is the paper telling you where the house is? Either answer will do.”

Kathryn slowly shook her head, having regained some of her strength and will.

“Very well,” the Colonel shook his head. “Sergeant,” he looked across the room. “You may have the honor.”

The Sergeant literally bounded up to the rack and climbed onto Kathryn’s stretched and helpless body. With his body flush on top of hers, he squeezed her breasts before reaching his hand between their bodies. He pulled down his zipper and appeared to withdraw his penis from his pants and direct it at its target. Daniela and Sylvia both knew that, no matter what Sylvia said about realism, this part of her torture could only be simulated, although Daniela wondered if Sylvia would have suffered actual rape for her craft.

Not that it really would have been rape had she consented, so that too would not have created a realistic scene. The thought crossed Daniela’s mind to direct the Sergeant actually to penetrate Kathryn. She wondered if he would have been professional enough to resist the magnificent body under him had she done so. That would be rape and the only way to make the scene truly realistic, after which Kathryn could never know what her captors had in store for her, which would have added to her terror during the rest of the scene. Now that would be even more realism, Daniela thought. And she would have wagered that Sylvia, in her quest for ultimate realism, would not have objected later had she actually been raped. Maybe someday filmmaking would evolve a method to allow complete realism, apart from actually torturing or snuffing an actress. But Daniela could hope that her audience would leave the theatre thinking that her film had been the most realistic in that regard.

Daniela watched as the Sergeant simulate pumping his body back and forth into Kathryn. After 30 seconds, he rolled off her, his back to the camera, and appeared to put his penis back in his pants. Then he climbed off the rack, faced the camera and zipped up his fly.

Kathryn was sobbing after her violation as well as from the pain in her shoulders and hips, which had been magnified when the Sergeant climbed onto her, forcing her body down against the wooden board and stretching her even farther.

“There are a dozen more soldiers waiting to show what happens to traitors to the Fatherland," the Colonel reminded her. "We will give you two hours to think about it."

He and the others in the room walked to the door, turned off the lights, and exited, leaving Kathryn alone. Daniela signaled “cut” and the cameras went dark just as the door closed behind the exiting soldiers.

Daniela wanted to move right into the next part of the dungeon scene, but Kathryn had insisted, for realism’s sake, that, when the soldiers left her alone for two hours, still stretched on the rack, she really be left alone stretched on the rack for two hours. [See Kathryn 1 pic]

****

When the cast and crew returned to the dungeon, Sylvia was groaning and her breathing was even shallower than before. Daniela’s first thought was to call the paramedics. But she knew that, if she brought Sylvia out of character, Sylvia would have a major fit and possibly walk off the set – assuming she was still able to walk. And what if Sylvia was only acting? Daniela decided to proceed.

“We’re back,” the Colonel approached Kathryn’s prone body after Daniela had signaled “action.” “Do you have anything to tell us?”

Daniela was relieved when Sylvia responded in character, slowly shaking her head. "No," I have nothing more to say," she offered weakly.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. For both our sakes.” The Colonel was growing impatient. It was obvious that he had not expected Kathryn to hold out this long. He leaned over her. "I guess you prefer that we destroy your body piece by piece."

Kathryn again gathered her strength, and spit at the Colonel’s face. But she was weak, and her spittle simply drooled over her lips.

“Bring me the generator!!” the Colonel screamed. Immediately, a soldier wheeled over the table holding it. The Colonel pulled two wires from it and attached their clawed ends to Kathryn’s nipples, drawing a small spot of blood from each. Kathryn drew in a large breath and gasped from the pain. Daniela wondered if Sylvia ever played with nipple clamps, but even if she had, Daniela was confident these film props would squeeze tighter than any toys she might have used. Another price for Kathryn to pay for Sylvia’s realism.

The Colonel pulled two more wires from the generator. Daniela had shown mercy for a change and softened the bite of the claws attached to them, knowing where they were to be attached. She would ask Sylvia later if she would have preferred “total realism.” The Colonel carefully placed one on each labium. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cloth gag. He jammed it deep into Kathryn's mouth and secured it with tape across her lips.

“In case you thought you could talk before I finished what I have in store for you.”

He flicked the generator’s on/off switch and stared at Kathryn. She shook her head back and forth over and over again, pleading with wide open, terrified eyes. He ignored her and turned the dial on the generator a third of the way up. Kathryn’s body leaped off the board from her shoulders to her heels. Even with the gag deep in her throat, her muffled screams could be heard by everyone in the room.

She turned her head to watch his hand, praying for relief. But after five seconds, when he again turned the dial, it was not to turn off the current, but to move the knob up higher. Halfway up. Kathryn’s body now twisted and convulsed. She shook her breasts from side to side, trying to dislodge the clamps from her nipples. She tried to close her knees, but could not. Finally, after an interminable five additional seconds, the Colonel flipped the switch to its off position and Kathryn’s body crashed back down to the rack. Instantly, her bladder released and soaked the board under her legs.

"Holy shit,” Daniela thought. She knew that they could not actually send electric current through Kathryn’s body. Among several reasons, it was too dangerous to attach the wires to her chest and the producer’s insurance would never cover it. So the electrocution had been acting on Sylvia’s part. And she had convinced even Daniela that the electricity was actually surging through her. As for the release of her bladder, Daniela wondered how Kathryn could have any liquid left in her after the hours of sweating in chains and on the rack. Unlike the packets of blood, this was Sylvia's own urine. This woman was amazing, she marveled. And, when she got into character, she really got into character. It was impossible to distinguish what was real and what wasn't. She was not just a movie star. She was a real actress.

Daniela suddenly realized that the cameras were still rolling, and that she had become a spectator rather than a director.

The Colonel released the winch, releasing the pressure on Kathryn's limbs.

Another soldier walked to the far wall and picked up a swastika-shaped hot iron from a glowing brazier. Kathryn immediately started shaking when she saw him approach, but her limbs remained restrained. Without a word, he forced her onto her stomach and jammed the hot iron twice into the middle of her back. Kathryn screamed. "Just like branding cattle," the Colonel called out to her. "We own you."

Perfect, Daniela thought. Right on the two pads that special effects had put on her body so the shape of the mark appeared to be on her skin, but the heat did not fully penetrate. Oh, it would still feel very hot and it still would burn, but it would look absolutely horrifying on the screen.

Chapter 4

“No more. No more,” Kathryn offered weakly as soon as the Colonel had removed her gag as she still lay on the rack's urine-soaked wooden board.

“What do you have to tell us?”

“My right shoe.”

“What about your right shoe?” the Colonel asked.

“Inside it. The paper.”

The Colonel glanced at the seated soldier, who sheepishly reached under the chair next to him to examine the shoes he had overlooked in his prior examination of her clothes. He pulled out a small paper taped to the inside of the right shoe and handed it to the Colonel. After glancing at it, the Colonel smiled. "Now I just need the code to decipher it."

"The numbers...," Kathryn struggled, "are ... in ... reverse. They're in reverse. That’s the only code."

"I see," the Colonel looked at the paper. "So the number of the house is not 147, but 741?"

"Yes. Yes," Kathryn confirmed.

“How many will be in the house?”

“Usually there are three or four. Possibly more in the afternoon.”

The Colonel handed the paper to one of the soldiers. “Take six men. The house is at least an hour away. If you need more when you get there, use as many locals as you need. Capture is preferred to killing, but killing is preferred to escape.”

Half the soldiers in the room exited, leaving six others in addition to their Colonel.

"Well, my little traitor, I know how you resistance scum operate. I know that none of you knows more than is necessary, so that leaves me with nothing more that you can tell me about your operation. Which is good for the health of your group, but not so good for your personal health, wouldn’t you say?”

“Please. No more pain.”

“You are a traitor to the Fatherland, are not you? Should there not be punishment for that?” The Colonel looked down at her.

“The punishment is death,” Kathryn responded softly. “I am ready.”

“That is the final punishment, true,” the Colonel laughed. He began to unchain her limbs, knowing that she had no strength to try to escape. “But just as there are punishments for treason," the Colonel continued, "there are also rewards for those who serve their country loyally.” He nodded in the direction of the six remaining men. Quickly they formed a line.

“No,” Kathryn protested, as the first in line climbed on top of her.

“And cut,” Daniela screamed, this time so all, including Sylvia, could hear. Filming was complete. She would start editing immediately.

****

Inside the theatre: Sitting alone in the middle of the back row at the film’s premiere, Sylvia’s eyes were fixed on the screen. She could hear several women in the audience trying to suppress their sobs, many without success. Sylvia knew that they had identified strongly with Kathryn and now were suffering with her.

On the screen: The six soldiers who had remained with the Colonel in the dungeon marched into the interior courtyard of the SS headquarters, each with a rifle slung over his right shoulder. Kathryn, still naked, was forced to march among them. Her wrists remained tied behind her back. [See Kathryn 2 pic] The soldiers marched Kathryn to the far wall of the courtyard and pushed her back against it. She struggled to stand, her knees slightly bent. The soldiers left her there and formed a line about thirty feet away.

The Colonel walked up to Kathryn carrying a black hood. She shook her head. Ignoring her, he first pulled out the same cloth gag he had used on her before, again stuffing it deep into her mouth and taping it in place. Next, he placed the black hood over her head and secured it around her neck. “I don’t want you to appear brave or defiant, traitor. I can’t have you yelling ‘vive la France’ or ’death to the Germans,’ as unoriginal as that would be. It is better for our morale that you are remembered as the weak resistance woman who peed herself during questioning.”

Kathryn offered a muffled, unintelligible protest through the gag as the Colonel walked away.

Cut to soldiers bursting into a house and quickly searching it, only to find it empty.

Cut back to the courtyard: “Ready.” The six soldiers in the firing squad raised their rifles in response to the Colonel’s command.

"Aim.” Six rifles pointed at Kathryn. She managed to push herself away from the wall and stood straight as her last act of defiance, screaming through the gag that, while the Germans could defeat her, they could not defeat the resistance. It did not matter to her that no one else could understand anything she was trying to say. She knew what she was telling them. And to her ears her words sounded eloquent.

Cut to a meeting of a handful of resistance fighters: “Kathryn is hours late,” one of them spoke what they all knew.

“She must have been captured,” another said what they all feared.

“At least she was a decoy this time, so all that she could tell her captors under torture was the false story about the safe house.”

“She knew the risks."

"So do you. Will that make the torture less painful?”

Cut back to the courtyard: “Fire.” Six bullets ripped into Kathryn’s naked torso between her navel and her chest. Blood spurted from the wounds. Her body was pushed back hard against the wall, where the force kept it in place for a few seconds before it slowly fell to the right and into the dirt on the ground, landing on its right side and turning over onto its stomach, her wrists still cuffed behind her.

One of the soldiers walked up to her and rolled her onto her back. He felt her neck for a pulse, found none and shook his head for the others to see. He pulled off the hood to see her open eyes, staring. He left them open. He pulled the gag out of her mouth, leaving her mouth also open.

He stood up as the other five soldiers approached. They looked at each other, and one reached to unzip his pants. The others quickly did the same. In unison they urinated on her. After they finished, two of them grabbed her wrists and dragged her face up to a waiting wheelbarrow into which they tossed her body. Under it flashed on the screen below her body: Kathryn LaMaigne: 1917-1945, French resistance fighter, before the screen went dark and the credits began to roll.

Epilogue

Sylvia remained in her seat, but put on her sunglasses and pulled her hat down over her eyes. She did not want anyone to recognize her. She did not want anyone to congratulate or criticize her on her performance. She did not want to hear any comments about the film.

She was scheduled to join Daniela on stage for a question and answer session following the screening. She watched as about a third of the audience left the theatre, while the rest moved closer to the stage.

Sylvia figured that the one-third leaving hated the movie. Of the rest, probably half also hated it and wanted to let her know. Which meant that one-third may have liked the film. Of those, at least two-thirds would have liked it for the wrong reasons – simply for its violent and sexual content. Those were the ones who would search for the final 15 minutes of the film on YouTube and watch it over and over again, rubbing their penises and forgetting that the two previous hours had told a very moving story. To them, Kathryn was simply an attractive naked woman tortured and sexually abused, and the reasons why were not important. Sylvia smiled. What was it that Jerry Seinfeld always said? “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” To each his own, she thought. They had the right to enjoy what they enjoyed as long as they didn’t actually hurt anyone. And those studies that supposedly proved that watching violent movies encouraged real-life violence? Those were bullshit, she knew. Guys who got their kicks watching violent movies didn’t have the energy to get their kicks engaging in real-life violence. No, they went to sleep.

That left about 10% who enjoyed the film for the right reasons. Because of its powerful story and realism. Ten percent who were intelligent movie-goers who looked beyond the superficial and prurient. More than she expected, actually. She was happy with that number.

Sylvia moved to the stage and hugged Daniela before sitting down next to her. The first questioner, a man about Sylvia’s age, approached the microphone set up in the middle of the center aisle. “I heard viewers describe the film as brilliant, vulgar, real, pornographic, inspiring and filthy. With which of those descriptions do you agree?”

Daniela did not hesitate. “It is mostly real because of the talent of its lead actress. Absent that, it might have turned into some of those other things, but, with her, it was real above anything else.”

The questioner looked at Sylvia. “Sir, the film is all of those things. But the reason that it is vulgar and filthy and pornographic is because war is vulgar and filthy and pornographic. And it is brilliant and real and inspiring because its writer/director was not afraid to show the truth of war.”

The next questioner was a young woman. “I was not going to see this film because I was sure it would be purely violent and pornographic. But when a film is violent and pornographic for a reason, then it is no longer violent and pornographic, but it is real.”

It wasn’t a question, but Sylvia and Daniela both nodded their agreement. The third questioner was an older man. “You sit there trying to portray your film as original in its realism. But isn’t it a fact that you are not the real pioneers in these kinds of films, but that the true creators of the genre are Jac Avila and Amy Hesketh? Have you seen their films? Haven’t they been making these kinds of realistic films now for 10 years or more?”

“I am not familiar with their work,” Sylvia responded.

“But you didn’t write the film. What about you, Daniela? Are you familiar with their work?”

Daniela was direct. “I am. And you are right. I did not invent the genre and do not claim that I did. If anyone invented, it was Jac. Unfortunately, they are Bolivian filmmakers and their audience, while growing, is still relatively small. I have the opportunity, only because of Sylvia’s involvement, to bring the genre to a wider audience. I hope that benefits them and everyone who enjoys this genre of filmmaking. And while I did not invent the genre, I do think that I made a very good film.”

****

Daniela and Sylvia sat together five months later as the evening’s host opened the envelope.

“And in the new award category of ‘Best Actress in a work of dramatic realism,’ the award goes to …

“Mila Joya for Maleficarum !!”