Struggling to recover emotionally from a brutal assault that killed her fiancé and left her in a coma, a radio personality begins a quest for vengeance against the perpetrators that leaves a bloody trail across New York City.
Fred Tate is a prodigy. He's also a lonely, little boy with the emotional needs that his single mom covers. Worries about world problems gives him ulcer. He takes a quantum physics summer college class at 7.
Mark Harmon is a washed-up baseball player who is called back home to handle the ashes of his childhood sweetheart/ first love who had committed suicide. As he searches for what to do with ... See full summary »
Sarah Tobias goes to her local bar and is gang-raped by three men. The district attorney on the case is Katheryn Murphy who wants to prove that although Sarah had taken drugs that night and was acting provocatively while in the bar, this is no reason for her to be so brutally attacked and the men responsible should be brought to justice.Written by
Sami Al-Taher <firstname.lastname@example.org>
When man is playing the pin-ball machine in the bar his score reads 196,100, but a few seconds later, after a reaction shot of Kathryn, the score is only 14,050. See more »
This is what the jury is going to see. And they are going to see the girl too and you can't tell it from these. But she's tiny. She's the most defenceless looking thing you you ever saw.
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I saw this film with my girlfriend about a year after I graduated from college, where I had lived in the alpha-male, females-as-accessories environment of a fraternity house. While I know of nothing that went on in my fraternity that compares to the horrible events of this film, I was struck that some of the beer-fueled conversations I had with my fraternity brothers could have led to the same results with more likelihood than I realized at the time (or care to admit even to this day). Suffice it to say, I cried all the way home from this movie, as much from shame as anything else.
Twelve years later, I still cannot recall being as horrifyingly struck by a scene as I was during the rape scene at the end of "The Accused" -- and I definitely do not have the stomach to see it again. The movie, in my view, is exceedingly well-acted (Foster's Oscar was well-deserved) and well-told. It has the rare gift of touching the viewer viscerally for the entire duration -- discomfort being the feeling.
This isn't virtuoso film-making like "The Godfather", but at the same time I can think of no greater compliment for a movie than it truly opened my eyes to a new perspective that I was not mature enough to grasp on my own. I left the theater a different person -- how often can that be said?
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