Broadchurch is back on our screens, and the new series focuses on the aftermath of a sexual assault and the hunt for the perpetrator. Sexual violence is far from new territory for television – in fact, a litany of recent TV series and films has been accused of using rape as little more than a titillating plot device. But the fact that rape can be irresponsibly exploited for entertainment value doesn’t necessarily mean that it should never be explored on screen. Treated right, it can even be an effective way to raise awareness, correct misconceptions or educate an audience. Judging by the first episode, the third series of Broadchurch seems to be a good example.



There were a number of clear pitfalls to avoid, exemplified by recent, high-profile missteps in portraying similar storylines. Director Tom Ford’s Nocturnal Animals, for example, was accused of exploiting the rape and murder of women for entertainment, showing them screaming and pleading for their lives, and later using their naked, blood-streaked corpses as a beautiful, gory set piece.

Broadchurch, by contrast, has chosen to focus on survivor Trish Winterman from the outset, foregrounding her experience and making her the centre of the storyline instead of a passive, beautiful corpse for an exciting anti-hero to toy with. This is not a sexualised, model-like victim with perfectly lit limbs and artfully smeared grazes. Instead, the camera focuses on her face, rather than the rest of her body, encouraging viewers to confront the emotional and psychological impact of the crime rather than objectify her.



Television programmes such as Luther, The Fall, Ripper Street and many more seem to focus on young, beautiful rape and murder victims, with the slow stalking of women, their terrified attempts to escape and their actual assaults often depicted graphically and with lingering camera shots. As if the intended titillation wasn’t clear enough, some go a step further, intercutting steamy sex scenes with those in which women are murdered or raped. Rapists and killers are made sexy and brooding, and their “complex” characters explored.

Broadchurch starts from the point of Winterman’s decision to report the rape, omitting the spectacle of the assault itself altogether and focusing entirely on the aftermath. This does nothing to undermine the power of the attack, but it refuses to allow her experience to become voyeuristic. The unflinching portrayal of everything from forensic tests to the shock of being asked to sit on an evidence sheet in the car brings home the reality of such an experience in a way that no beautiful Hollywood montage of spreadeagled, shimmering limbs ever could.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Poldark was criticised over a rape scene. Photograph: BBC

BBC favourite Poldark fell into another common trap when it broadcast a rape scene showing the titular hero forcing a woman into bed despite her repeated, vocal protests. Later in the scene, the programme makers chose to have the female character appear to being enjoying the experience, thus playing into the common and unhelpful narrative that women who say no “secretly want it”. Meanwhile, Game of Thrones was similarly criticised for the portrayal of a rape that took a dramatic departure from what critics said had originally been written as a consensual sex scene in the George R R Martin novel.

As well as reducing the crime of rape to little more than a frisson for viewers, such approaches risk compounding common misconceptions by blurring the lines between sexual violence and sexual attraction. In reality, we know that rape isn’t about sex or attraction but power and control. But perhaps that doesn’t make for such sexy onscreen scenes.

The Broadchurch programme makers chose to consult sexual violence charities before filming – something which is evident throughout. Poignant moments are used to make important points about rape: “You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” David Tennant’s character, DI Alec Hardy, tells Winterman when she apologises for not being able to remember more details about the incident.

Olivia Colman’s DS Ellie Miller debunks myths about “stranger rape”, emphasising its rarity and raising concerns over Winterman’s safety at home, in case “her attacker’s got a key”. When Hardy wonders why she didn’t report the incident sooner and another police officer asks whether Trish’s story is genuine, Miller rebukes them, pointing out that “everyone responds differently” and emphasising the importance of starting from a point of always believing the victim.

Of course, Winterman’s experience – feeling able to report the incident, being believed by sensitive officers and treated with compassion at every stage – isn’t reflective of what every survivor may go through. But by producers making the effort to avoid sexualising and discarding her as a gory and titillating victim, Broadchurch’s portrayal of rape is very different from what we are used to seeing on screen. If television wants to build plots around sexual violence, it could take pointers from this approach, which foregrounds the survivor, instead of using her as a brief, bloody prop in somebody else’s story.