In the 1960s, crime rates in the U.S. (as in most other Western countries) began a long, steady rise that continued into the 1970s. Meanwhile, official attitudes towards lawbreakers softened, resulting in increased leniency in sentencing and penalties and the granting new rights and protections to both accused and convicted criminals. In the eyes of many citizens, the two were connected, and the frustration over declining public safety gave a new appeal to private justice and a new disdain towards the legal system. One manifestation of this was seen in a spate of revenge films that appeared in the 1970s, centered around victims of violent criminal acts who bypassed the legal system and instead sought relief via vengeance at their own hands.

One of the most famous and notorious of these films was a 1978 production called Day of the Woman, better known by its alternative title of I Spit on Your Grave. It combined two controversial subjects, the highly realistic depiction of rape and taking the law into one's own hands, something which stirred up no small amount of outrage. Widely excoriated by film critics, feminists, and social commentators alike, the film was banned or heavily censored in several countries, and at one point, it was even accused of being a "snuff" film by the anti-pornography squad of the police service of Canada's largest city.

Jennifer Hill (Camille Keaton), a writer of romantic short stories leaves New York City for a sojourn at a rented cottage in an idyllic locale in rural Connecticut, where she plans to write her first novel. Unfortunately for Jennifer, she attracts the attention of several mysogynistic young men, led by a service station attendant named Johnny (Eron Tabor) who abduct and brutally gang-rape her several times in one afternoon, before sending one of their number, a mentally-challenged grocery store clerk named Matthew (Richard Pace), to murder her in order to leave no witness to their crimes. Fortunately for the battered and semi-conscious Jennifer, the squeamish Matthew spares her, and tricks his acquaintances into believing she is dead.

Rather than seek medical attention, Jennifer chooses to recover on her own. However, though her physical wounds heal, the wounds inflicted on her psyche fester instead, and eschewing relief through the the police and courts, she instead plans her own savage vengeance. One by one, she lures her former tormentors to vulnerable, secluded places, where she takes their lives with a cold-blooded profiency that belies her pleasant, civilized demeanor.

This film has some of the most graphic and realistic rape scenes ever committed to film, in part based on an experience director Zarchi had had some some years previous in New York City. There, Director Zarchi had stumbled across and assisted a battered and brutalized victim of sexual assault, and had been appalled by the indifference and lack of sympathy exhibited by the police. This carries over into his screenplay, where the victim never considers using legal channels for redress. The film's tagline makes the statement that "This woman has just cut, chopped, broken and burned four men beyond recognition... but no jury in America would ever convict her!," but this is dubious, since the assailants in question, heinious though their crimes were, had, in fact, not inflicted death or even serious physical injury. It also stretches credibility to suggest that an established married man with a family would lead a gang-rape effort against a respectable middle-class victim who had done nothing more provocative than to appear in a bikini on her own lawn, merely to provide a sexual experience for a retarded, undersocialized acquaintance.

Still, the film has much working in its favor. The rustic setting, in and near a small town named Kent in rural Connecticut, is quite memorable, especially as much of it was shot in and about the scenic Hoosatonic River, and its well-directed cinematography seamlessly melds its activity using the rustic community itself as a set. Its small, carefully-selected cast is quite credible, especially lead Camille Keaton (a grand-niece of the famous comedian Buster Keaton, and who had appeared in a number of European productions), who delivers an excellent performance at times so realistic it will have viewers cringing in sympathy and their skin prickling. Supporting actors Eron Tabor as the mysogonistic Johnny, and Richard Pace as the retarded Matthew also bring their roles to life (in fact, the latter's hanging scene was so realistic as to convince some that it was an actual killing), although the other two main supporting actors, Anthony Nichols and Gunter Kleemann, aren't given enough to do to make much of an impression. Interestingly enough, apparently none of the four supporting actors ever appeared in a feature film again, which suggests that the film was no boost to their acting careers.

Despite its flaws, the film bravely tackles head-on a highly controversial subject, presenting the ugly crime of rape in all its brutality, something that would never be done in today's sensitivity-attuned cinema. It is an engaging, disturbing, and thought-provoking piece that succeeds in making a social comment on its times, and that, combined with its notoriety, has brought it cult classic status today.

Video: The video transfer is 16x9-enhanced 1.85:1 OAR, and it appears to be from the same master used for the earlier Elite version of this title. There is some edge enhancement apparent at the very beginning, but it doesn't continue very far. There is also some dirt and grain, along with compression artifacts and some "staircasing" with fine lines. Colors are occasionally muted, but most of the time they are reasonably saturated. Blacks are deep for the most part, although in some of the night scenes, blockiness and banding were evident. Detail is reasonable. Overall, although it has obvious flaws, the transfer is quite watchable.

Audio: There are three audio options available: Original mono, Dolby Digital 5.1, and DTS. The original mono is clear and clean; not much more to say about it. Of the two multichannel mixes, only the DTS was reviewed here; it did not make noticeable use of the surrounds, and for the most part, came across like more like plain stereo than a surround mix. Like the mono soundtrack, it is clear and clean.

Packaging: A handsome combination consisting of a grey-tinted Alpha keepcase and a gold-banded cover featuring the lurid theatrical poster that is one of the most famous and in the history of exploitation cinema.

Supplements: Two running commentaries, one by director Meir Zarchi and the other by noted cult film expert Joe Bob Briggs, as well as theatrical trailers, TV and radio spots, U.S. and international posters and VHS covers, and reviews and articles.

The gems of the extra features of this disc are the two running commentaries. The Briggs commentary focuses on the famed reviewer's critical, at times humorous, scene-by-scene analysis of the film, helping to enlighten the viewer concerning the film's subtle nuances and how they relate to the scorn heaped on it over the years. Briggs concludes that the film is highly underrated, and in fact has many redeeming qualities. The director's commentary is also very illuminating, especially for the rare insight it provides concerning Mr. Zarchi's intentions in making the film, the cast and how they were chosen, and what transpired during and after the production process.

Menus: Animated motion menus using scenes from the feature, complete with sound bites from the soundtrack.

Conclusions: Elite put a lot of effort into this feature-loaded disc. The reviews, menus, trailers, and especially the commentaries make this a first-class collector version of one of the most famous cult films in the history of exploitation cinema. Those who are squeamish or easily offended are advised to stay well away from this disc, but many others, especially genre collectors, will find it an easy-to-justify purchase, especially considering the relatively modest price. For those who wonder what all the fuss is about (and again, who aren't easily offended), rental is always an option.

This review dedicated to Rich R. Chaves Jr. (1960-2003)