Trigger warning: Sexual abuse
At first glance, one might think that the arts of writing and boxing belong to completely different worlds: one is a cerebral space favored by people who value physicality and wildness, while the other values matter over mind.
It’s an unhelpful bias that’s easily refuted. A good fighter thrives on strategy and technique, just as a writer showcases strong ideas.
Muhammad Ali brought both, with a mind as sharp as his right hooks, although he memorably shattered the cliche with the remark, “Keats and Shelley… were pretty good poets, but they died young. Do you know why? Because they didn’t train.”
In fact, both Keats and Shelley were well-known street fighters, so it should not seem so unlikely that the staunch Dr Donna Lyon, a film producer and lecturer in film studies at the Victorian College of the Arts, would bring the two together in her remarkable support group. Left writing hookfor women who have experienced sexual abuse.
ScreenHub: Producer Donna Lyon fights to honor victims of sexual abuse
Lyon’s work takes a groundbreaking approach informed by her own life experience. The result is a documentary of the same name that premiered at the Melbourne International Film Festival (MIFF). Directed by Shannon Owen, a former social worker at a women’s refuge that houses women who have fled domestic violence, the film follows Lyon’s intensive program, which brings together seven women with very different experiences but a shared trauma that manifests itself in different ways. Lyon also shares her own journey.
The right to be angry
Sitting together in a gym is difficult enough for women who struggle to share their experiences outside of a therapist’s office, but this is compounded by the often deep-seated shame in a country where it is still difficult to have meaningful conversations about the shocking epidemic of violence against women.
Warning them that while this is a safe place, it’s also one that will inevitably be triggered, Lyon encourages the collective to process that pain through sparring and letting go on punching bags. Then they channel their feelings of anger, despair, shame, and more through creative writing exercises inspired by prompts like “Hitting is…”
Lyon affirms their right to be angry and promotes physical and mental catharsis. Full of incredibly generous testimonies, Left writing hook is both difficult, as the anger and despair are clearly visible on the faces of the group, and incredible to witness the healing effect of arming oneself with boxing gloves and the powerful pens, opening up the possibility of a healing that was long thought unattainable. Several of the committed participants say that boxing helps them reconnect with their bodies, the contortion of which was long considered the only way to survive.
Shot by cameramen Ella Sowinska and David Rusanow, Left writing hook is an intimate portrait that makes us feel like we are being thrown into the ring with the women, complemented by personal video essays recorded by the participants on their smartphones.
There’s also some beautiful camerawork from Melbourne herself, and dreamier interludes, such as a shot of one of the women alone in a room whose walls, floor and ceiling are black as a chalkboard, writing lyrics in a wheel of fire around her, leaving a trace of her absence as she walks away. It’s mesmerizing.
Poetry with impact
The raw honesty of the poetry pouring out of these women, some set to music as one participant delightfully revisits youthful dreams of acting, rivals the immortal lines of Keats and Shelley on street fighting. It’s great to see their healing efforts converge in a book of the same name.
As the group works through the book’s introductory text, it’s also fascinating to see how they work to draw the line between Lyons’ faith and the traumatic experiences several members have had at the hands of organized religion. It’s a textbook example of difficult but respectful conversation, a skill that’s all too often lacking in public discourse.
A worthwhile watch, Left writing hook never gets lost in the horrific truths it reveals. The tangible positive impact the book’s release has had on the group is indeed impressive. “I’m not sure survivor is a good enough word,” says one. “Maybe it’s resuscitator?”
And it’s invigorating. When one participant says she feels accepted and loved for the parts of herself she thought were irretrievably broken, the nimble dance of Lyons’ – and Owen’s – work is crystal clear, floating through the film like a butterfly that also stings like a bee.
Left writing hook is currently screening at the Melbourne International Film Festival. Find out more. Watch the Left writing hook Trailer.
