Arabella, gaining personal and intellectual confidence, states as much with her survivors’ support group in episode eight. She says that ‘being on the boundary’ allows a permissibly opaque state of mind: ‘where nothing was clear, nothing could be clear’.
The series’ writer/creator Michaela Coel clearly strives for these vital messages to be heard, punching into the complicated realities surrounding rape and consent. Both episodes feature two crushing yet inspiring monologues: the first has Bella reading her new work; the second addresses the support group.
Photo: BBC/Various Artists Ltd and FALKNA/Natalie Seery
Coel storms from enjoyable comedy to intense drama, and vice versa. Episode seven starts in a London market, joyously preparing for Terry's birthday party – leading jarringly to Bella in the Soho writing office with her editors, reading out a chapter from her book that details her rape. And we then quickly return to humour
again, as the editors awkwardly comment that her content doesn’t fit the contract. When she tries her luck with the publisher over at Hennyhouse, the latter excitedly says, ‘Rape! Fantastic!’… before citing the said contract.
It’s a realistic clash of conflicting emotions that’s hard to process, capturing the barrage of everyday life for Bella. Even the display of social media feels overwhelmingly natural, showing its constant overlap in millennial life (one scene has both Bella's Twitter and Kwame's Grindr appearing on screen simultaneously).
Episode seven is mostly centred on Terry’s birthday. She continues to be self-absorbed, sauntering into her party, forcing everyone’s attention towards her. She’s intent on looking after Bella, acting as an authority on sexual abuse, while controlling her at the same time. Terry’s profoundly irritating and arrogant and mean, trying to manipulate every facet of Bella’s life – but this comes from an intensely sympathetic and caring place.
Photo: BBC/Various Artists Ltd and FALKNA/Natalie Seery
The
greyness exhibited through these two episodes also spills into race and
sexuality. You’d think that environmental concerns about climate change couldn’t
possibly be connected to black oppression and systemic racism, but one of Terry’s
friends makes it so. After Bella begins working at a vegan charity to make
ends meet, she’s faced with a torrent of criticism. It’s a seemingly ridiculous
and overblown argument… until black exploitation comes
up. Suddenly, the arguments become much more legitimate.
In episode eight, the Grindr-addicted Kwame dabbles in dating women because of his rape, which was left unresolved by barely sympathetic police officers. But the supposed security of ‘females’ doesn’t make him feel any safer. That added trauma of nothing being done about sexual assault, of justice and retribution being abandoned, soon enters Bella’s life and she strives for security herself – even returning to Italy.
Coel reaches beyond binary assumptions and swims through all supposed boundaries, creating a realistic, important drama that encourages conversation. It’s regrettable that I May Destroy You airs so late, limiting the number of people who’ll watch it. The series deserves to be seen and discussed with as many viewers as possible, even if it’s a debate they don’t want to have.
I May Destroy You airs on Mondays and Tuesdays at 10:45pm and 10:55pm on BBC One
| What | I May Destroy You episode 7 & 8, BBC review |
| When |
29 Jun 20 – 29 Jun 21, ON BBC ONE 30 Jun 20 – 30 Jun 21, ON BBC ONE |
| Price | £n/a |
| Website |
